I got pulled over the other day. It's a habit of mine. I seem to attract them everywhere I go. Over the past few years I've been pulled over in multiple states for a variety of reasons. None of those reasons included speeding.
Sam was in the car when the cop came to the window to talk to me. Sam's window was also down. He did not want to miss the action. The idea that mom could get in trouble was so exciting that he was giggling uncontrollably. Molly was also in the car and was quivering in the third row of my ginormous vehicle.
The officer just wanted to tell me that I had a brake light out. He was very nice and talked to Sam for a few minutes and then wrote a pretend ticket for Molly. She nearly peed her pants. As the officer started to walk back to his car she yelled from her crouched position in the 3rd row, "put it on my tab". I am pretty sure I snorted to keep from laughing out loud. Dan in Real Life is one of our favorite movies.
The officer stopped for a second and then turned back around and peeked through her window and then put his fist up to the glass to give her some stones. She didn't bother putting her hand to the glass. Instead she stuck her tiny hand through the opening in the rear windows that only crack open a few inches so she could give him real stones... the exploding kind. Or, as our Mel has recently learned, "Sparkle Stones".
Not to divert too far from the movie references, on our way home from dinner with Mel at Flour Girls & Dough Boys tonight Molly started to tell me about a movie she was watching on Netflix the other night. It had some police officers that drove around their town all crazy and then they kidnapped a high school kid and let him shoot their guns and set their car on fire and say that one really bad word a lot.
Yes. She was referring to SUPERBAD. And, I'm officially the worst mother ever and have now changed the Netflix password and removed the app from their iPods and the iPad and the computers and the Wii and have been labeled the "Murderer of Fun". Someday, I'm sure I'll be called worse than that. For now, I need to try to figure out how to wash her teeny little brain out and fill it back up with butterflies and unicorns and fairy godmothers.
Still not quite as funny as the sex with a sandwich bit from Stockton, but this girl has the ability to easily surpass her cousin in time.
Sam was in the car when the cop came to the window to talk to me. Sam's window was also down. He did not want to miss the action. The idea that mom could get in trouble was so exciting that he was giggling uncontrollably. Molly was also in the car and was quivering in the third row of my ginormous vehicle.
The officer just wanted to tell me that I had a brake light out. He was very nice and talked to Sam for a few minutes and then wrote a pretend ticket for Molly. She nearly peed her pants. As the officer started to walk back to his car she yelled from her crouched position in the 3rd row, "put it on my tab". I am pretty sure I snorted to keep from laughing out loud. Dan in Real Life is one of our favorite movies.
The officer stopped for a second and then turned back around and peeked through her window and then put his fist up to the glass to give her some stones. She didn't bother putting her hand to the glass. Instead she stuck her tiny hand through the opening in the rear windows that only crack open a few inches so she could give him real stones... the exploding kind. Or, as our Mel has recently learned, "Sparkle Stones".
Not to divert too far from the movie references, on our way home from dinner with Mel at Flour Girls & Dough Boys tonight Molly started to tell me about a movie she was watching on Netflix the other night. It had some police officers that drove around their town all crazy and then they kidnapped a high school kid and let him shoot their guns and set their car on fire and say that one really bad word a lot.
Yes. She was referring to SUPERBAD. And, I'm officially the worst mother ever and have now changed the Netflix password and removed the app from their iPods and the iPad and the computers and the Wii and have been labeled the "Murderer of Fun". Someday, I'm sure I'll be called worse than that. For now, I need to try to figure out how to wash her teeny little brain out and fill it back up with butterflies and unicorns and fairy godmothers.
Still not quite as funny as the sex with a sandwich bit from Stockton, but this girl has the ability to easily surpass her cousin in time.
2 comments:
love your kids to pieces....and now i'm beginning to understand just why i was kidnapped & held hostage! sadly there were no guns to shoot, only hide-and-seek in that ginormous car.
Superbad? HAHAHAHAHAHAA
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