Fireworks of a Different Sort

So…yesterday was my birthday.  I’m sorry if you missed it.  31 is kind of a big deal, you know.   I must tell you that every stinking time I say I’m 31 I think of the stupid bags and it’s kind of annoying.  I’m hoping this wears off, otherwise 32 can’t come fast enough.  (Not that I think the bags are bad, I would just prefer not to think of them literally every time I think of my age.)  Ugh.

Moving on…

We had a lovely dinner at Cracker Barrel, it’s my favorite, and yes, I’m basically 60 on the inside.   Then, we had some amazing Dairy Mart, which I highly recommend if you’re ever in Salem, IL.  The lemon will rock your face off.  I had a heath volcano, which was delish, but still, try the LEMON.

Moving on…again…

We packed up and began our caravan back to our house.  I saw some fireworks off in the distance and tried to point them out to Hannah.  Of course then they were blocked by trees and corn and she couldn’t see them.  Tears and sadness followed.  She really was disappointed that I got to see fireworks (all 3 of them) and she didn’t.  Well, wouldn’t you know it, suddenly there are flashing lights behind us.  Hannah is getting very excited.  Pink and blue fireworks behind us!  Woohoo!!  Except only one of us was woohoo-ing, the other one of us was busily trying to explain that they were not fireworks.

I’m getting pulled over.   Awesome.

She keeps getting more and more excited and I couldn’t help but laugh at the situation.  So, by the time the police officer made it to my window, the first thing out my mouth is, while softly laughing, “I gotta tell you, sir, my daughter is pretty excited right now because she thinks there are fireworks behind us.!”   Anyways, he asks if I knew that my tail light is out and so I told him I had no idea.  He told me that’s why he pulled me over and I respond with, “oh, ok, I wasn’t really sure because I didn’t think I was speeding”.  Maybe not the best response, but he seemed pretty chill.  Of course, I couldn’t find my insurance card, so he just took my drivers license while I did a mad search for my card, which I never did find.  Oops, probably should find that.

So, he comes back, I tell him straight up that I can’t find my card, but at this point Chad has pulled over too.  So, after he asks if the truck is with me and I explain that it is my husband, I offer to get him Chad’s ins card.  Again, maybe not the greatest response.  And of course my car is loaded down with all kinds of stuff so he asks where we’re headed.

This is where I have a brilliant idea.  Not that there’s any indication of a ticket, but better to be safe than sorry, right?  I tell him that “today’s my birthday and we were celebrating with my family and now we’re headed back to our house in Glen Carbon.”  He says, “you’ve got a lot of stuff.”  “Yes, I have a 2 year old and 4 year old and they come with a lot of stuff.”  Luckily he tells me he has an 8 year old and 6 year old so he can understand that.  He gives me back my license and suggests Chad follow me so that I don’t get pulled over again and so that we get home before the storm hits.  Hannah is still excited about the fireworks behind us and keeps talking about the pink & blue flashing lights.  Leah just covers her eyes and hides.

I think the best present I got all day was that nice policeman not giving me a ticket.  And now, I should probably have Chad fix that taillight…


What is your funniest police encounter?



3 thoughts on “Fireworks of a Different Sort

  1. This is a hilarious story! Happy belated birthday!!
    P.s. you can delete my other comment, when you click on my name, it doesn’t bring you to my current blog 🙂


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s