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, ombré 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: I don’t suggest you tell your husband about this.
kidlingville 
Awesome..lol
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.
My kids tell everyone when I get a speeding ticket. And I mean everyone!! 🙂
Little boogers… The Kidling might have run inside as soon as we got home so she could tell her father while I as chatting with the neighbors. So much for following her own advice…
That’s funny. 🙂
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…. 😦
It sucked a little (as in $200 sucked), but at least The Kidling gave me a good story. It comes out in the wash.
Ouch! I think $200 qualifies for a lot!
but as you say, thankfully all was not lost. As they say in the VISA commercials: ticket, $200, blow to ego, $100, remarks from the Kidling–priceless… 🙂
Thank goodness for The Kidling.
🙂
She is a riot!!
My very own riot grrrrrl.
Love the “suggestion.” Hysterical. “Your husband”…still giggling.
Me too. 🙂
It would be one thing to say, “Don’t tell Dad.” Her version made for an entirely different story.
Oh Alice! 🙂 She is just too funny.
Thanks, Shoes. She really is a funny little shit.
HAHA. Hilarious! I love your kid already!
Me too. 😉 And hey, thanks for stopping by! It is pretty fun around here.