Embracing blonde moments.

Poor blondes get a bad rap, but maybe this offensive euphemism can be helpful for some good, old fashioned self-humbling. For the decently intelligent person I consider myself to be, it’s alarming when a blonde moment slaps me across the face leaving an imprint of “idiot” in beautiful red letters on my cheek.

Some of my most recent blonde moments for your pleasure:

1.     Enthusiastically gawked over the new tongs at work while exclaiming: “Wow, look at us.  New spatulas!”

2.     Convinced my family that Eric Lloyd (kid in Santa Claus movies with Tim Allen) was grown-up Josh Peck—believed with all my heart they were the same person

3.     Realized for the first time after months of buying this Trader J’s simmer sauce that I had been skipping 90% of the steps required when adding it to a dish

4.     A friend mentioned his “ninja” in conversation referring to his Ninja food processor and I furrowed my eyebrows on what possible “The Indian in the Cupboard” reference this could be

5.     Five minutes ago, had to Google: “is it bad rap or bad wrap”?

I’m working to grow to take these blonde moments in stride because letting dumb things like this humble me costs nothing but a little pride and ego, and I don’t need that in abundant supply anyway.