Oh, How Embarrassing!
While we were out that way, I said, "who wants to go to the chocolate store?" And of course, we all did. So, we went, got our theobromine, and headed home. Now, the road from the mall is 45, but it's a local road, so I always go about 40. Today, there was a mr. policeman behind me.
Sure enough, he has me pull over. So I do.
I was in the speed limit. My registration and inspection are fine. ??????????
Got the papers ready - you know, license, proof of insurance, registration. My mother is horrified, thinking she pushed some button that made the car flash. The kids are like,"What did we do??"
Mr. policeofficer asks if I know why he pulled me over. I am mystified. He says, "your little one doesn't have a seat belt on.
"What?!" I replied, shocked. "He had a seat belt on when we left the mall!"
"I have my seat belt on!" Tim protested.
"He has it on now," Mr. policeofficer replies, "but did you just have him put it on? He turned around to look at me several times as we were driving up the road, ma'am. He couldn't do that with a seat belt on."
At the officer is explaining this, Moth turns in his seat to look back at the police car, with his seatbelt on.
So, we got off scot free... even though we were completely innocent of wrongdoing, I expected some kind of warning about having weird kids or something. And you know, I'll never let mothman live this one down. By the time he's 18, I will have been arrested, spent 2 nights in the pokey, and had to panhandle for my bail money. All because he couldn't sit still in his seat.
Stinky has started to be a little metal-head. He's been playing my Def Leppard CD's non-stop. I just got out Aerosmith's Big Ones to see if he'd like that. He wants Disturbed and Drowning Pool (and someone played Bodies for him) (gadzooks, next he'll be asking for System of a Down), but those are just a little too harsh yet. Any suggestions for metal that's not murderous?
I think he listens to it simply to shock his elders. Doesn't work on dad or me (note, they are my cd's he's borrowing), but it is a slam dunk with my mother. She's all like "so, you don't like music, do you?" And he replies "I like metal!" and she looks appropriately horrified. Metal, for an 11 year old. But he doesn't like John Denver. He must be mentally challenged.
At least she doesn't ask him if he's wearing "that" to school today, like she used to with me, when I was in high school. Wait, she still asks me that. Heh.