Stupid is as Stupid Does

OK

So we're heading into Springfield to catch a movie.

WALL-E to be specific.

I'm on vacation and because of band camp and work schedules, I had one afternoon with the boys to catch a movie.  This was the only one that none of us had seen.

Cute flick by the way.  I recommend it.

But I digress.

On the way we fired up some Elvis on the Ipod and get down to business singing the heck out of Burning Love.

I'm a notorious car dancer, much to my family's chagrin.  However when Elvis is getting his groove on we all tend to shake the pelvis some.

I'm stopped at a light about a mile away from the house.  I'm fiddling with the volume on the radio and just happen to look into the rear view mirror to see the man in the truck behind me waving his arms in order to get my attention.

I realized at once it was to express appreciation for my dancing skills.

However he pointed to the bottom of his seat, and through his exceptional use of body language, I was able to determine I probably had something going on with my car.

I waved my thanks and whipped it over into the gas station assuming that I had a flat tire and due to my interest in the music and embarrassing my boys, I hadn't noticed it.

When I get out, my purse falls to the ground. 

My purse is a tampon bag.  Called such because according to Joy, that's about all it will hold.

It is a small affair, but it has room for my car key, Blackberry, Burt's Bees lip balm, card holder, my work ID, and a change purse.  The whole ditty has a long strap that I can wear across my body.  It has everything I need and when I do need my big bag, it fits inside.

I walk around to the back and check my tires.

Fine.

The boys and I test the brake lights and turn signals.

Both fine.

I scratch my head and shrug my shoulders and grab my purse.

Ah.

Yeah.

Normally, when I get in the car, I put my purse on the floor beside my left leg.  You know between me and the door.

This time I didn't get the whole purse in the car.  

...only the really long strap.

I had been dragging my purse along the pavement for over a mile at excessive speed.  Excessive speed because well, Elvis was on and the heaviness of my foot is directly correlated to the volume and speed of the music being played.

But here's the surreal part.

Nothing fell out.

Nothing

Nada.

Everything was still in it.

Here's a photo.  Not very good, but you can see where the finish is completely scraped off of one corner. 

The good Lord watches out for the stupid.