The father figure’s birthday is six days before Christmas. Due to the nature of his work schedule, he’s never around in the days before Christmas. So when we meet for his birthday dinner, it’s inevitably late and I am driving a car full of children myself. And when we leave his birthday dinner, it is inevitably later and I am driving a car filled with hyper children. So some things might just fall through the cracks. Nothing too important. I have never left a child. But I may or may not have forgotten to turn on my lights. Being so very close to Christmas, the DUI patrols are out in full force and lest I go three feet before realizing that my lights are indeed still in the upright and fixed position, Vancouver’s finest are there to assist. And of course, the one time I do this, I am also a full five minutes pregnant. Actually more like six weeks, but who’s counting? Certainly not any small persons. So there I am, with flashing blue lights behind me, frantically searching for my proof of insurance and registration. While yelling all sorts of threats to the small persons who are bellowing all sorts of questions to me. I can count on the oldest to be quiet and helpful. I can count on Baby to be Baby. Also sorts of helpful.
“hello officer” He’s already doing a head count, that should help the sympathy factor.
“Know why I pulled you over tonight?”
“I’m guessing it was the failure to turn on my lights.”
“yes ma’am. You been drinking tonight?”
No sir.” I refrained from adding “even with all the extra passengers I have.”
Baby, however, saw no such need to refrain and volunteered “you were drinking at dinner mom!”
Having an audience, I refrained from screaming “and that’s why Santa WILL NEVER return to our house!!!”
Rather, I smiled awkwardly and said, in my mother of the year voice “He doesn’t mean water honey, he means alcohol.” I bat my eyes at the officer communicating the absolute delight that children bring to your life.
“Oh yeah, and you can’t drink alcohol because it is bad for the baby.” Sigh, ok, this might not be the worst possible ever.
At this point Mac seems to realize that he could be speaking and isn’t and that he should remedy this. “Why is it bad for the baby? Why is it bad for kids?”
At this point the officer was moved by compassion and decided to head back to his car and run my license. I maintained my mother of the year persona, knowing that I was a hair’s breath away from being jailed on assault charges. There were more question, more answers and the police officer returned.
He smiled, returned my license and wished me good evening. I, through clenched teeth, offered, “It can’t go downhill from here” Which the moment I said it, I realized that since he hadn’t actually given me a ticket, it could indeed go downhill.
I made it five more minutes before having to pull over to vomit. Morning sickness my enlarged rear! I’ve always wondered what the officer’s reaction would have been I done so on his shoes. I was this close.