10 second rule...

John has a 10 second rule he established years ago for my often times "blonde" Shawna Lynn. He shakes his head, smiles [or groans] and tells her that just a few more seconds in the brain chambers wouldn't hurt a bit before uttering something of "airhead" status. I recently enjoyed one of these moments myself:

I was stretching jumper cables across my car to Shawna's jeep, discovering her lights had been on for several hours at school on Friday and the battery was dead. I realized the cables weren't long enough to reach and while deciding on alternative car positions my precious little one says:

"I could pull my jeep up on the other side of your car."

Why sure. Let's give that a go.