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Dumb and Dumber

Published July 13. 2013 09:03AM

Remember I told you I bought Harry a set of remote control helicopters for Christmas?

He loved them. Well, he loved the little one best because he could fly it in the house. He loved flying it so much, it broke after only a few weeks. He loved it so much, he went back and bought another one. Which he loved so much, he broke that one, too.

Admittedly, they weren't expensive. Made in China ... where else. So, he's been helicopter-less for a while now.

Last week we went to the movies at the Stroud Mall. Walking toward the theater, guess what Harry saw? Yup. A kiosk selling helicopters.

"I'm buying one. I really miss my little guy," Harry informed me.

You know you're in trouble when you give inanimate objects an endearment.

Harry bought another "little guy" and I said to the salesman that it was too bad they break so easily.

With that, he whipped out this little army helicopter, sent it flying upward and then dropped it to the floor.

"See? Indestructible!" Then he kicked it across the floor, sent it flying upward only to drop it to the floor again and kicked it like a soccer ball.

"See? Indestructible! I like you. I like you so much I sell to you for just $10 more."

As soon as Harry got home he promptly put it on the charger. A short while later, I was fighting off an air attack from the U.S. Army.

After a bit, I heard some cussing and thought, "Not already."

"It's broke."

"I thought it was indestructible?" I asked.

Evidently, the gyro wasn't right. He couldn't trim it to keep from going around in circles. (Are you impressed with my knowledge of helicopters?)

If the mall had still been opened, I'm sure he would have taken it back that night. The next day, the salesman basically told Harry he was too dumb to fly it and proceeded to buzz it around Harry's head to prove his point. The salesman wouldn't give Harry his money back or replace the "Little Guy" with a new one. Harry brought it back home, fiddled around with it and he and the "Little Guy" have been inseparable since.

He claims he was dumb to buy another one from the guy and swore the next one is going to come from a real hobby shop.

Well, if Harry's dumb, I'm dumber.

I was mixing up batter for Pearl's Chocolate Cake (our most favorite!!!) when my hand mixer stopped dead in its tracks.

After clicking the button several times, pulling the plug out and putting it back in, it finally dawned on me ... my mixer was dead. Done. Kaput.

Working within a tight schedule, I grumbled and groused as I grabbed my purse and car keys and headed out the door for the store.

Since there are no department stores in my area, the best shot I had of finding a new mixer was the grocery store located about two miles from home.

I bought one, hurried home, assembled it and began mixing.

Well. A whole lot of clattering and a clunking came from inside my new mixer. When I shook it, I could tell something was big time wrong.

"Seriously?" I yelled at my inanimate object, calling it names that were less than endearing. I was so mad I stomped my foot and shook the mixer, which only made the clattering louder, making me madder.

I cleaned it, packed it up and stomped out to the car, muttering under my breath a few choice words.

I stood in line at the Customer Service desk where I finally got to tell my tale of woe, stomped my way to the aisle where the mixers were, picked one up, shook the box, didn't hear anything, took it back to the Customer Service desk, took it out of the box in front of the clerk, shook it, declared it a winner, packed it back in the box, stomped my way to the parking lot, drove home, still muttering under my breath about all the time I wasted.

I can just hear some of you saying, "Why didn't she mix the batter by hand the old fashioned way with a spoon?"

Duh. OK. I'm dumb. I never got that thought until long after the cake was mixed, frosted and eaten.

That's when I started calling myself such endearing names like "Stupid, Dumbbell and Idiot." Which got me thinking about phrases, like, "I really am a brick short of a load," and "I'm not playing with a full deck of cards." Here are some more appropriate phrases:

She's a few leaves short of a tree.

The lights are on but nobody's home.

You can hear an echo between his ears.

She's a sandwich short of a picnic.

He's missing more than just the tater salad from the picnic.

If idiots could fly, our place would be an airport.

If at first you don't succeed ... skydiving isn't for you.

He's sharp as a bowling ball.

She's dumber than a box of rocks.

Your elevator doesn't go all the way to the top.

Don't worry, nobody is dumber than you, dumb yes, but not dumber.

He's from the shallow end of the gene pool.

Hair is preventing oxygen flow to her brain.

Not the brightest crayon in the box.

Not the brightest bulb in the chandelier.

Not the sharpest knife in the drawer.

Not the sharpest tool in the shed.

And my favorite one ... If brains were gas, she wouldn't have enough to power an ant moped around a marble. (I just love the visualization of this one!)

Thus concludes my tale of Dumb and Dumber's latest exploits in the Land of the Broken.

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