Wednesday, April 1, 2015

I really should have my own Secret Service detail.

In case you didn't know already, I'm a pretty important person. In fact, I'm the president's daughter and I'm getting home via Air Force One today. 

See, I recently took a mini-vacation to have a few days free to FINALLY get my braces off and spend a little time with my folks. (BeeTeeDubs, my teeth look fabulous. See for yourself.)




My trip to see the parents had a specific mission: trade cars. Sadly, Big Red (my Pontiac Grand Am/longtime boyfriend) was really starting to act his age. Electrical problems, window problems, and an engine that I didn't entirely trust to drive long distances were ruining our relationship, so I finally admitted it was time to take Big Red away to a farm to live with the other old motors like himself. (No really. That's not a euphemism for "putting him down." My parents live on a farm, with an old pickup and a couple of old tractors and lawn mowers.) Anyway, the plan was to trade Big Red for my Mom's Chevy Impala. And we did. And the Impala is WONDERFUL. Quieter, better gas mileage, radio controls on the steering wheel...but I digress. As usual.

Mom and Dad know that I have a habit of naming my cars, so naturally they asked what I was going to name the Impala. I had been thinking about it, but hadn't really settled on anything. You have to drive a car before you know it well enough to give it a name. (I've always wondered how parents pick out their kids' names before the babies are even born. That little "Tucker", might turn out to totally have an "Ed" personality, ya know? But since the Universe has made it clear I should never have children, I suppose I don't have to worry about it). Anyway, we tossed around a few ideas, and even tried to come up with a name that would be a clever play on the color of the car. In case you're wondering, the car is tan, but Chevrolet calls it "Sand." There was Sandy (nixed because I have friends named Sandy), and Mojave and Sahara since those are deserts, and deserts have sand. (I nixed Mojave because just...no. And I nixed Sahara because it's too close to Brangelina's daughter's name.) I was thinking about AlesSANDro, but that's a name better suited to a Ferrari. I decided to defer until I could think of something AWESOME.

The day after the car swap, my parents' little town was having one of those trade days/craft show/community event things that little towns have to bring in the big city folks and their big city money. My Mom was scheduled to work a table that morning for the  "Friends of the Local Nature Park" club. (That's not the ACTUAL name, of course, but I can't remember the real one.) Anyway, Mom was manning the table because she's not only in the club, she's also the club president. Their table was full of park maps, event schedules and a craft opportunity for any kids that came by. And we all know that a big box of Crayola markers is like a magnet for little kids. Two little girls came over and colored for quite awhile, mostly oblivious to the adults around them until....

Mom had walked away to talk to someone she knew, so I was left with the park club table and the little girls. A lady walked up and I started giving her the club spiel that Mom had been giving. I was pretty knowledgeable about the park and club info, but the lady still managed to ask a question that I didn't know the answer to. I told her that the club president had momentarily stepped away; I was just filling in since I was the "president's daughter."

Suddenly, one of those little girls' heads popped up whiplash-fast and she asked (dead seriously), "YOU'RE OBAMA'S DAUGHTER?" 

Now, it takes alot to leave me speechless, but that did it. The lady I had been talking with went red-faced from laughing so hard. And the poor little girl just looked confused. 

Since then, every time I see President Obama on TV, I think of that little girl, and that weekend, and the car swap....and I finally came up with a name for my car. A name suitable for a president's daughter. I have named my car AIR FORCE ONE. 



*********

Dear NSA, 

I have no doubt that this blog post made all of your key-word alarms go off. I also have no doubt that after reading this you've figured out that I'm not dangerous to anyone but myself and the English language, and that you need a more exciting job. 

Thanks for visiting the blog and for keeping us safe. 

Shelley






5 comments:

  1. Bahahahaha!!! I am laughing so hard right now! And I LOVE the car's name :D

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    Replies
    1. Thanks! Now I want to find a couple of those little flags that Secret Service cars use when they're transporting the Pres. I'm nothing if not thorough!

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  2. hilarious!

    Elle
    southernellestyle.com

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