The Breast of Humanity

Dinner and a Show

Yesterday, RC had implanted the wonderful idea of going out for dessert after we laid Squishy down to sleep. Well, it just didn't happen. He had promised my brother-in-law (and boss news on that in a minute) that he would help him fix his computer. I went along with him because we were going to go straight to get some dessert after he finished. Well, he didn't finish until after O'Charley's closed. So, we decided to go on our dessert date tonight. We had a lovely caramel ice cream dream at O'Charley's and then proceeded to the vehicle. We were almost home, just around the corner and five houses down to be exact, but what stood between us and home was one little stop sign. Nothing particularly notable occurred at said stop sign, but as soon as RC turned on the turn signal to pull into the driveway the light show began. When the lights turned into the driveway behind us we became somewhat amused, is that guy trying to pull us over, and stuff like that. When we continued up the driveway to park behind the house he turned on his siren. I wanted to get out and yell at him "the kid is in bed shut off that racket!" Apparently, according to our fine upstanding police man, RC "eased through" the aforementioned stop sign. While the police officer asked me to remain in the car (I am thinking to myself "No, I do not want to stay in the car because I am certain that my child believes he has entered the gates of hell and is therefore declaring his unhappiness in a voluminous manner. I must get to my baby." ) he asked RC to step to the back and blah blah blah, "Ma'am would you please look for the registration?" Oh no, not in there, you can't seriously want me to look in that glove compartment. So I had to search through the black hole of a glove compartment for a registration that I am not entirely certain exists. I found lots of Best Buy receipts and extended warranties, other sundry work invoices for our trusty Tercel, about twenty empty ATM deposit envelopes, an owners manual, an ordering booklet if you want extra features on you car (such as extra floor mats), tons of cds, left over concert tickets that never sold from a concert last August (a memento he says, trash I say), and junk mail from MS. Not surprising, I never found the registration. So being a very friendly cop, he let RC go with just a warning and I was able to finally come inside only to discover that it did not interfere with Squishy's sleep at all. RC also told me that the police man asked him if he had anything in the vehicle that he wasn't supposed to have because he has a dog in his car who will tell him if we do, so if we do have anything we aren't supposed to have that we should tell him and he would write us a citation for it and not worry about getting the dog out. By all rights, he probably could have just booked us for not having the registration or the proof of insurance, granted I am glad that he didn't but still. We do actually own the vehicle, his sister gave it to us, and we do actually have insurance we just haven't received the cards for it yet. Thus ended our fun and exciting dessert date night that we got a free light show out of also.

This posting is not affiliated with any entities that in any way try to hinder the justice upheld by the local police force.

Oh, yes I forgot to tell about the whole statement about "my boss" earlier. My brother-in-law is the band director at the local high school. Their show for marching band this year is "Edward Scissorhands", an awesome idea that I have never seen transcribed to the field and am very anxious to see. He looked high and low for a costume for his male drum major to be dressed as Edward, but alas his efforts proved futile. So he has requested that I create one for him, and he will pay me to do it! I get as giddy as a school girl when I think about it. Oooooooooohh! It sends shivers of delight with the designing power that I wield in these unruly hands! Ah love it!

posted by Jedi Master Deba Sing @ 9:52 PM 1 comments