A Blond Joke

My brother and I look a lot alike. We share something of the shape of our dad's face and our mom's blue eyes and blond hair.

Back when blond jokes were popular, I heard a lot of them. And, despite my grade point average, they were usually well deserved. This weekend I was reminded why.

I flew to Texas for a quick (read: 27 hour) trip to see my family, and, on Saturday, we all crowded around a hotel pool for an hour before we headed off to a shower in celebration of my brother's upcoming wedding.

The pool was surrounded by a metal fence with a locked gate. As our family members and friends arrived, I jumped up from my spot in the sun to let them in. Over and over again, I told them to:

"Hold on, I'll be right there," and they held on and, in about 20 steps, I was right there, swinging the gate open.

I was vaguely aware that no one else offered to let our guests in, but I didn't think much of it. Unlike me, most of them can see each other more than once every couple of months, so I figured they weren't in any hurry to hug.

Finally, I had to leave the pool area to use the restroom. When I returned, no one got up.

"Dad," I called. "Come let me in."

"Rebecca," he called back, "reach over and let yourself in."

I blinked.

And then I reached over the chest high gate and let myself in.

As others showed up, I stopped offering to open the gate. One-by-one, they opened it independently, without a moment's hesitation.

My brother was the last to arrive, and, I swear it was just like looking in a mirror when he stopped short and yelled:

"Hey, someone come open the gate!"