Sometimes I get writer’s block. Sometimes I have an idea but can’t make anything come of it. Sometimes a post falls into my lap like a ton of bricks, and even if those bricks leave some lingering annoying pain, they give me something to write about.

Such was yesterday.

Long story short, I found myself on the wrong side of the law. While out doing errands, I looked in my rear view mirror to see some colorful lighting action behind me…I was getting pulled over.

 I’m 37 years old, I’ve been driving for over 20 years now, and let me just boldly admit that I am no stranger to traffic citations.  I’ve seen those flashing lights in my rear view mirror WAY too many times than I care to count. What can I say? I like to get to where I’m going, like now. And most, like oh maybe 99.7% of those times, have ended up with something that required a court date and/or a large fine. There’s an episode of Friends where Rachel (Jennifer Aniston) sweet talks her way out of her very guilty speeding self and just trust me, that has very VERY rarely happened to me. Not that I haven’t tried.

No, let’s just say that I know the drill. Hand over license, wait (im)patiently for the officer to confirm that my license plate hasn’t been reported stolen, there aren’t any warrants out for my arrest, I’m not currently (nor have I ever been) featured on America’s Most Wanted, and that I’m allowed to be in this country.

So here I am yesterday, pulled over on some neighborhood side street for like the zillionth time in my life, waiting solemnly, watching the people who live in the neighborhood come to their doors because whoa man, like there’s a cop out here!!

Here I sit. And I’m so guilty. I’m probably the guiltiest I’ve ever been. I know this and so does Officer Friendly. Yet something’s different than all those times in high school when I was speeding around with my mates. He’s actually working with me. He wants this to end well for me. But this time it’s not about trying to be charming, or pulling some teenaged attitude or an offer of gum from my giggling friends in the backseat (a sad reality of mine). Nope. All I have to offer is just a plethora of mortified apologies (for having 2 month old expired tags), a waving of a soccer camp registration form that needed to be turned in today and a frantic (but unsuccessful) search to turn up a current insurance card.

I could not have looked more like an idiot and definitely wasn’t going to win a Responsible Motorist Contest…yet Officer Friendly didn’t cite me for all the things he could have. Yes, I did get a ticket for not being able to show proof of insurance, but OF was overwhelmingly informative about how that would be completely voided out as soon as I showed up to the courthouse to show them my current card (which, of course, magically turned up as soon as he drove away).

This post obviously isn’t about parenting and my kids didn’t even turn up once in it, did they? And of course, I’m speculating and probably being oversensitive and maybe exaggerating a little but I have this image of myself through the officer’s eyes and it’s just so pathetic…

Harried, wild eyed, disorganized, minivan driving middle aged soccer mom. Poor thing.

Yeah, but in real life I’m a Super Hero. Ha ha.

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