As Promised . . .

Pictures:

Wilson, playing in Cool Whip- 8 months

Miller, playing in Cool Whip- 6 months

Story:

I may have forgotten to mention that I was pulled over a few months ago. I can't imagine why I elected to leave this sparkling detail of my life out :). I was coming home from Wal-Mart at about 6:00 one evening with both of the kiddos. Miller was screaming her head off because we were way late for supper. So we're "puttering" along a back road/short cut home when I see the heart stopping, stomach churning, blue lights. Maybe it's not for me, maybe it's not for me . . . It's for me. As I'm pulling over I realize I don't have my seat belt on. Why in the world do I not have my seat belt on!? I don't change parking spots at the grocery store with out putting my seat belt on. "Click it or ticket, Mississippi" is playing in my ears. So, I stealthily slide my belt on and hope Officer Friendly doesn't notice. He walks up to my window to hear Miller howling in the back seat. "Ma'am, any reason other than your baby screaming that you're going so fast?" "Nope, that about does for me." "How old is she?" "3 months." "Well, I have a grandboy just that age." ("thank you, God!") "Can I see your insurance?" "Oh you mean this expired card in my wallet? The new one is at home in the pile of mail I haven't sifted through since the 3 month old came home." He looks at it. "Oh, that's fine- this'll do." ("thank you, God!") He ran my license (with my old address on it) and came back to the car. Well, you slow down a little and get that baby home. He never said a word about the seat belt. (again, "thank you, God!") So, as we're heading home and I'm mulling over the fact that I've just dodged charges for not wearing a seat belt, driving 15 miles over the speed limit, expired proof of insurance, and a falsified drivers license (I'm pretty sure that all adds up to life in prison, so I'm uttering prayers of thanksgiving) I'm also thinking this will be the topic of conversation for Wilson for days, if not, months on end. He's gonna tell everybody about how he got to see the flashing blue lights and how a policeman shined his flashlight on his baby sister and told his mamma she was driving too fast. We get home and I tell Phil I've just given Wilson material for an eon's worth of chatter- beware. To my surprise, Wilson didn't say a word about it for hours and even then it was kind of like an "oh, by the way . . ." kind of a comment. And he really hasn't brought it up much since.

Until earlier this week. We were on our way to Wal-Mart. Going down the same road. We were stopped at a red light. "Hey mom, remember when we went to Wal-Mart that time and the policeman pulled you over?" "Yes, I remember (that time 3 months ago)." "Well, don't forget, we're just on a slow road- it's not the interstate. Okay?"

"Okay, thank you, son."