Life As We Know It....: A Recent Run-In With The Law...

Let me preface this post by saying I took some NyQuil about half an hour ago, so if it rambles or becomes incoherent, that's my excuse.

I had a recent run-in with the law here in Lex Vegas, when I got pulled over on New Circle Road. Now, let me say...I have been a very lucky person when it comes to getting pulled over or dealing with the police. I've never been in any real trouble--the closest I've ever come to having an authentic police incident involved a scary redneck-type dude calling the police on my friend Matt and I when we were geocaching (and geocaching is awesome...not nerdy at all. Just sayin'.). It was actually a funny story--we were in a nearby smaller county, and all of a sudden, three police cars were speeding toward us. We pulled over and the cops carefully approached our windows, like we might potentially be armed or something. After an awkward attempt on our part to explain geocaching (It's almost impossible. Try it.), the cop realized we were in fact just nerds and not the pimp/prostitutes he was looking for. Yes...apparently there's a prostitution problem in this little county. Pretty sure my sweatpants were a dead giveaway that we weren't who they were hoping to catch.

The first time I was ever pulled over in my entire life was in college. I was serving at Bella Notte, and I was leaving work after a particularly crappy night which ended with me getting severely stiffed on a tip by a rowdy group of out-of-towners. Even my boss took pity on me and gave me extra money that night--I'd busted my rear for these men and my tip on a $200 check was $4.00. I was already crying when I got into my crappy 1982 Chevy Station Wagon (aww, yeah...I rocked that b*tch...), and no sooner had I pulled out of the parking lot, when a cop turned on his lights and pulled me over. Naturally, I did what all young women do when they get pulled over. I started crying even harder. I wasn't trying to pull a fast one on the guy, though; I was genuinely upset. I was pretty much broke and knew that paying for a ticket wasn't really in the budget. The man was the nicest cop in the world. He pulled me over for expired tags...when he saw my face and heard that I was just leaving work and in college, he took serious pity on me and let me go. I was just incredibly appreciative for the understanding.

My next pull-over happened about three years ago. I was heading home after a late-night store run for diapers, and I was driving fast, as I pretty much do quite often. I know, I know...not a good idea. I'm working on it. Anyway, not only was a I driving pretty fast, I also ended up running a red light--and he was of course at said red light. He got behind me and followed me for a good 1/2 mile before turning on his lights. I pulled over and started shuffling through the glove compartment for my registration, and then grabbed my license--and then remembered that it was expired. Awesome. I quickly decided on a different approach...no tears this time, but I may or may not have done the unthinkable--I might have used my children as a way to try to get out of a ticket. I'm not proud of it, people, but it worked. Aside from looking incredibly disheveled, which I'm sure just confirmed that my story was true (which it was), I managed to throw into the conversation the fact that I had 18 month old twins at home, and that most days I didn't even manage to brush my teeth, much less go and get a new license. He was a little more skeptical than the last cop and ran my tags to make sure I wasn't some crazy criminal, but he came back, gave me a good lecture on safe driving, and asked if he should be worried about my oral hygiene. When he cracked that joke, I knew I was good. I came out of that with a warning and a promise to drive more carefully. Which I did. For awhile.

This brings us to last weekend. I was driving on New Circle, which is our small-city version of an expressway. I had Amelia with me, and we were jammin' to some MGMT (this song, if you're curious), and I guess the overzealous singing and dancing got the best of me, because before I knew it, I looked down at the speedometer and I was going...well...a little over the speed limit. I glanced in the mirror behind me to check for police, as every speeder does, and I noticed the local police paddy wagon in my rearview mirror. I didn't even really give it much thought, other than, "hey, the paddy wagon is for big disturbances, it doesn't pull people over!", and I went on. For about a half mile. I glanced up again, and that paddy wagon was behind me with its lights on. The paddy wagon. This.


See? It's for violent criminals, not moms who are just trying to get to Target...

I quickly pulled over and glanced back at Amelia, who was looking at me like I was crazy. I grabbed my wallet and tried desperately not to think of all the people driving by who were either thinking that I was probably being pulled over for selling drugs out of the back of my CR-V, or that I was some crazy drunk-driving mama. I rolled down the window...and I knew I was in for it when the officer started by saying, "I just have ONE question for you--do you KNOW what the speed limit is on this road? Because you BLEW past me back there!". Ummm, youch. Now, if I'm being honest, I haven't been talked to like that since I was a mouthy teenager. I learned that day that my reaction now is similar to my response then--my instinct is to give it right back. But for one, I am an absolute respect-for-authority believer, and for another, my daughter was sitting in the back seat. Of course I have to model good citizenship for her. I gritted my teeth and answered his questions quietly, kind of wishing Amelia would get scared and start crying so that maybe he would tone it down a bit. She was a total traitor that day--she was dead silent back there, just listening and taking it in. He told me he wasn't giving me a ticket, but that I needed to slow down (or that was the gist of it, anyway...his words were definitely not that kind). I said my "yes, sir"s and he went back to the paddy wagon to go bust a crack house or something. The first thing I did when he walked away was turn around and look at Amelia. Instead of the stunned or scared look I expected to see, she looked straight at me and SMILED. I was shocked. She's usually such a chicken--especially around strangers. So, instead of consoling her, as I had expected to do, I just quietly put my license away. She proceeded to drive the knife a little bit further into my back by saying, "Mommy, that powice officer told you to SWOW DOWN!". Just like that. I agreed with her, and told her that we always do what police officers tell us to do, all the while cursing silently in my head. I drove very slowly to Target and have been more careful every since. Marty finds this whole thing hilarious--he asks her to tell just about everyone what the police officer said to Mommy that day. The PADDY WAGON, PEOPLE. It was a bad scene. Also a pretty funny one.

Nothing new around here--I'm on my 3rd go-round with the household illness, hence the NyQuil (which is kicking in pretty nicely, by the way), and Anderson went to Urgent Treatment tonight for more ear troubles. Good times...good times.

A few cute pics from recently...