I ripped through the paper wrapper like a mad dog and jammed the straw into the plastic lid. Slurp…perfection. I had felt the start of a caffeine headache coming on and that Diet Coke was just what the doctor ordered. My three little wee ones (let’s call them Numbers 1, 2 , and 3 in birth order, not favoritism I swear) were all happily strapped in behind me in my Town and Country sipping their morning beverages. All was well. We were headed back home.
Blue and red lights began blinking in my rear view mirror. Oh motherfucker I thought. Is he pulling me over? Why yes he is. I found a patch of gravel by the lake off to the right and pulled my vehicle safely to the side.
“What’s happening Mommy?” asked Number 2.
“Oh honey, it’s okay, I think I was speeding,” I replied.
1 and 2 looked behind us and see the policeman sitting in his car.
“Oh no!” cried Number 2, “Are you going to go to jail?”
“Just drive off! Go Mom…Go!” yelled Number 1.
“Boys, it’s fine,” I said calmly. “I’m not going to jail. I was probably going a bit too fast.”
I looked and in the side view mirror and saw a stout little man from the city police department. He was slightly waddling and fidgeting with his waistband. How cliché. I put on my sweetest grin.
“Ma’am, I got you at 42 at the top of the hill and by the bottom you were up to 47. The speed limit here is 35.”
“Oh darn it,” I said sincerely. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even realize it. That hill is tricky,” I chuckled merrily.
“Okay, I’m gonna need your license and insurance.”
I pulled out my insurance slip that had been stained with some sort of cola or coffee-like substance. He reached out his sausage link fingers and snatched them up, walking back to his car. He hadn’t been exactly “friendly” however I was sure he would come back, tell me to slow down a bit and to have a great day. A simple warning was all.
“I swear you are going to jail!” said Number 1.
“What’s going to happen to us? He is so mean!” yelled Number 2.
Number 3 (who is just a little squirt) was blissfully unaware. He sat and looked around with a binky in his mouth. I turned around and faced the kids.
“You see boys, I was speeding, Mommy broke the law. The police officer has every right to pull me over because this is what happens when grown-ups break the law. He is just doing his job. He has to remind people to slow down. I will have to make sure I watch my speed from now on. This is all my fault.”
I was still smiling all while teaching the kids a very important lesson. Talk about keeping my cool. Besides, I knew the boy in blue would come back and pat my windshield, like a soft pat to the ass and tell me to scoot on down the road. A friendly vocal reminder is all that was going to happen. I watched my side mirror and saw him toddle himself out of the car. He came back up to my window and handed me a slip along with my license and insurance crap.
“You can pay the fine by mail or show up to court, either way I’m going to need you to slow down. Do you have any questions?”
(In my head) Uhh…yeah…what the fuck is wrong with you, you sad little fuck from hell? You donkey dick eating fungus that has nothing better to do with their time then pull over sweet little moms going down hills. You lazy cheating shithead!! It was a hill! I bet your wife hates sleeping with you! In fact…I bet she sleeps hanging off the bed with her legs crossed! I bet you have saggy balls. That’s probably why you waddle asshole! It’s because your balls get stuck in your crack when you sit in that stupid car. I’d like to wear a rubber glove and pull those droopy danglers out and stick them in your mouth so you’d shut the hell up you little troll.
“Umm, no questions officer. Thank you,” I said and rolled up the window. I looked at the ticket. That fucker!
“What’s that Mom?” asked Number 1.
“That’s a ticket that stupid jerk gave me,” I said.
“I thought he was just doing his job. I thought you broke the law,” said Number 2.
“Well he didn’t have to give me a ticket. He could have just giving me a warning. Seriously, that guy was a giant butthead,” I said. I realized that my face was scrunched into a ball and I was speeding off in a fury. Oh crap. I was speeding again. I looked in the distance and saw the red and blue lights flashing. Oh give me break you dick! As I slowed my speed, I realized it was some other poor asshole he was already pulling over. What an effing turd. Phew…at least it wasn’t me this time.
“Yeah, that guy was a total bad word face!” said Number 1.
“Yeah, I’m going to speed when I grow up!” yelled Number 2.
Well, that whole teaching-moment went to hell. But I will say that I learned two things that day. One is that my kids listen to me, way more than I think they do. They pick up on every emotion, every bit of body language, and every fit I throw. The second thing is that cops that sit at the bottom of hills are just hateful little creatures, because the only person I know who doesn’t accelerate on an effing hill is someone who is going UP the fucking thing.
By the way, even though this is a true story. I like cops, I really do. Just not that particular one. So don’t get mad. The rest of you are cool as shit :)
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