sh*t happens

By “sh*t,” I mean traffic citations. And by “happens,” I mean to me.

As The Kidling and I made our way one from the best birthday party ever–water balloons, doughnuts suspended from trees, sunshine, ombrรฉ butterfly cake–The Mama encountered a detour. I was in a part of town in which I rarely drive, and I was driving a vehicle I am not used to. I was nearly back on our usual route when I saw flashing lights in my rear view mirror.

Say it with me, Dear Readers, “Shiiiiiiiiit!”

That’s a good start. This time, with feeling: “SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!

Much better. Now, where was I?

The Officer: License, insurance, and registration please.

The Mama: Okay. I am going to reach into my purse and get my license. (Grabs license then looks for other materials. A full minute passes as she looks for her current insurance card) 2011, 2009, 2012… 2010… I am so embarrassed. 2010, another 2012. 2013! (Hands materials to The Officer)

The Officer: Do you know why I pulled you over?

The Mama: Honestly, no. I never drive this vehicle, so I’m guessing I was speeding?

The Officer: No, you just blew through that four-way stop back there.

The Mama: What four-way stop?! Where?

The Officer: Do you see where that car is turning? Right there.

The Mama: Really? I don’t see a stop sign.

The Officer: Well, you can drive back there and look–

The Mama: No, I believe you. I just don’t see it.

The Officer: Just a minute while I take these back. (Returns to his patrol car. One second passes, then–)

The Kidling: I’m so embarrassed!

The Mama: Why? You didn’t do anything wrong. Mom did.

The Kidling: I’m so embarrassed. I told you not to go so fast!

The Mama: Sweetheart, I wasn’t speeding. Apparently there was a stop sign back there that I didn’t see.

The Kidling: Why?

The Mama: I don’t know, babe. I don’t drive this way often and I just didn’t see it.

The Kidling: Why did he have to pull us over? Why is he back there? I told you not to drive so fast! (Many more admonishments as The Kidling discusses real and imagined transgressions)

(silence, then–)

The Kidling: Iย don’t suggest you tell your husband about this.

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About The Mamahttp://kidlingville.comProfessional talker, editor, emailer, problem solver, adjunct lecturer, blogger, and mother to the brilliantly absurd Kidling.

17 thoughts on “sh*t happens

    • Right? I was shocked by two things in particular: 1) that she would consider keeping something like that quiet, and 2) that she didn’t say “Dad”, but rather “your husband”. It brought a tiny speck of humor to a shitty, expensive situation.

  1. I think the Kidling is already incredibly perceptive, and she’s clearly got that important segment of the ‘X’ chromosome that filters information prudently… Sorry about your ticket, Christine. Bummer…. ๐Ÿ˜ฆ

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