A ticket in the hand, is worth the hand.

Today I got caught up in the Cub Scout book I was trying to understand. Before I new it I was late to pick up the older boys from summer school. Rushing I got shoeless Matthew and naked (except for underwear) Nicholas into the car and away we went. I have always been there a little early to pick them up but it was already 2:28. I just hope to get there before they were the last ones there.

Trying to hurry but not to speed I headed up first street. To my surprise the speed limit on that street is only 35 and not 45 as I had thought nor the 50 I was going. I was informed of this by the nice officer that pulled me over and gave me a 4 point ticket and fine of $75.00. Thank you, to All those who voted to double speeding fines on the last ballet. (this also may have been me since the last ticket I got was just after high school, remember coming back from Utah Jennifer? I figured, I really don't speed anyway. silly me.) From the back Matthew and Nicholas are yelling, "hi..,hi..,hi,...hello!" at the top of their dear lungs. Maybe they thought it was a field trip. Matthew says, "You never talked to a policeman before Mom. How come you talked to him?"

As I pulled away, I thought, the humiliation was over. Then my cell phone rang. As it was now 2:40, it was Shermie calling to see where I was and if I could come get Tuffer and him. The conversation went something like this:

Me: hello

Shermie: huh, Mom? I just called and left you a message so you would come and get us. Where are you?

Me: I just got stopped for a ticket I'll be right there.

Shermie: huh, What! So what are the charges!

Me: I got a ticket for speeding, I'll been right there.

Shermie: A ticket! So What! Did you lose your license?!

Me: No just the ticket. Come out I'll be right there.

As I shut the phone, I could hear Shermie start to explain things to those he was with. It was then I realized what this must have sounded like to anyone on the other side of it. The metal picture went between that of a bunch of laughing women, to that of a bunch of horrified women. After all why does an eight year-old understand "charges" and "ticket". Oh well, I guess I'll know which it was when social services shows up at the door. Just another day as Mom.