Blonde 911, Coffee Spitting & Postal Pizza

911 Treated Me Like I’m Blonde—Never Mind That I Am 

My son’s car broke down AFTER it had been at the repair shop for almost a month. He called telling me he was on the highway with NO power and NO flashers. I told him to get OUT of the car and find a SAFE place to wait for me.


 I called 911 and here’s the conversation:


 911: What township or borough?
Me: Richland
 911: What’s your emergency?
 Me: My son’s car broke down on Rte 8 and he has NO flashers. I have to get the vehicle towed…
911: We don’t tow vehicles ma’am
Me: **Sigh** I KNOW you don’t tow vehicles, BUT you DO direct traffic. And someone needs to get down there before there’s an accident because the vehicle is in the middle of the highway with NO flashers to warn other drivers that it's broken down. I’m calling the towing company now.

 Are people really THAT stupid or are they practicing for comedy central?



 I Don’t Spit But Will If It Pleases You

My husband and I were in the kitchen. His coffee mug was on the counter and I did NOT dump his coffee out and put the mug in the dishwasher…I actually RESISTED the urge.

 My husband turned and saw that his mug was still sitting where he left it. He picked it up but before taking a sip he asked me, “Did you spit in here?”

I was wiping off the counter with a dish cloth and answered, “No, do you want me to?”

Needless to say, I had to wipe coffee off the wall and cabinets because he ended up spitting the coffee he had in his mouth all over the place. Apparently he thought MY answer was hilarious.

 I thought I was just being nice.





Please Mail The Pizza 

One evening we wanted pizza but I hate ordering it because I don’t want to be on the phone unless I’m talking to people I actually LIKE. My husband was busy fixing something, leaving only our fourteen year old, who up to this point, had never placed a to go pizza order before.

 So, my husband gave him a real quick lesson on HOW to order pizza to go.

 Austin dialed the pizza shop and told them what we wanted. When it came time for our address information, Austin held the phone away from his mouth and asked, “Do I give them our zip code?”

My husband answered, “No, they aren’t mailing it.”