Saturday, June 02, 2007

THE FUGITIVE RETURNS

Okay, a good friend of mine accidentally reminded me that I never finished the fugitive post.
 
Well, here's what happened:
 
I was driving home from my grandmother's house late at night with my three kids in the car with me. They were in meltdown mode because of the late hour. They started screaming the instant I pulled out of my grandmother's driveway, and didn't stop until I pulled into my driveway about 20 minutes later.
 
Well, halfway through the trip, I turned my radio up kind of loud because I already had a migraine, and somehow, listening to loud rock wasn't as hard on my headache as three screeching kids right behind my ears. The music helped some, but not a lot, so I kept asking them to please stop screaming. They would NOT and because of the two lane road and late hour I didn't feel I should pull over. So I just drove through the screams, and tried to tune them out. One of the children screamed at me to turn the music down because it was loud and hurting their head. Well, wanting to use this as a teaching opportunity, I (in my stubbornness of not liking to be told what to do, especially at high volume) said, "No. Since you didn't listen to me when I asked you for the last two hundred times to please be quiet so I can concentrate on driving, then no. I am not listening to you and turning down the radio."
 
Wellll, the screaming got louder so I put one finger in my ear and started the, "La-da-da-da-da=I-can't-hearrrr-youuuuu----" thing. Ever done that?
 
Liars.
 
Anyway, so car full of children screaming, I'm wanting to get home, I have my pointer finger jabbed into my middle ear, and I'm HUMMING louder than the pretty loud radio.
 
And apparently didn't realize my speed, nor that the police officer in our town had been following me from the edge of town doing well more than 20 over.
 
EEEK.
 
 
So we pull in the driveway and I STILL have no idea about the officer until EVERYTHING in the car got pindrop quiet.
 
One child goes, "Um....moo-oomy? Are you goin to jail?"
 
I'm like, "Jail? What?" Then I see red strobes in my sideview mirror....and the not so happy town officer stalking to my car.
 
"YOU!" he said. "That was YOU back there? I clocked you going 65 in a 30. What in tarnation is going on?" Then he leans in the window, looks back to where two of the three are STILL screeching their lungs up. He raps his knuckles on the window and says, "Never mind. I think I know. Just slow down and be safe."
 
HOW EMBARRASSING. He was really nice, but ALL my neighbors saw him pull me over....IN MY DRIVEWAY.
 
The funniest part of all this is the day before this, I had just gone on a major rant to my husband for going like ten miles over the speed limit...I even said I was going to start praying God makes him get pulled over if he doesn't stop his incessant speeding. ROFL!
 
Hm....I'm wondering just whose side God's on anyway. Humpth!
 
All kidding aside, It IS scarey to me that I had NO idea I was going that fast. NO idea a police car (WITH FULL LIGHTS AND SIRENS ON!) followed me for MILES and I didn't know it until my child asked me in a fearful voice  if I was going to jail.
 
Oh, and apparently, said child didn't believe ME because she then asked the cop, "Hey, you takin' her to jail?"
 
So that's my fugitive moment.
 
I've obeyed the speed limits since. Honest.
 
Squirrel


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