Speeding Ticket on the way to Traffic Court

I thought this was a funny story because what were the chances of this happening?

I was returning to college from Christmas break and was pulled over for speeding. I HAD to go to court in Farmville, VA (paying online wasn't an option since there was no 'online' then). How was I going to get out of this ticket? The only advice I received from everyone I asked, was to not be late to court. They seemed to imply big fines, imprisonment, license revoked, etc.

So on my way from college to Farmville Traffic Court, I kept calculating the mileage and my speed and concluded that I would be late getting to court. Wanting to avoid jail time, I sped up- what were the chances I'd get another ticket? I was in the back of a pack of cars when I heard the familiar siren. I pulled over and the officer asked if there was a reason that I was speeding. I didn't want to show my obvious repeated tendencies of having a lead-foot, so I just said, "No. No reason what so ever." Meanwhile I'm thinking, hurry-up before I have to withdraw from college to do time in the slammer. I get my ticket from the Award Committee (The Police give awards to the fastest drivers) and slowy procede to Farmville.

I arrived 20 minutes late and feard the worst. The Bailif was reading names from the docet....more names than people present, '...John Doe...oh he's always late, Jane Doe, I think there might be traffic on Main St...' I'm thinking, really? These people are late and it is ok? Why did I risk the ticket?

Finally it is my turn and I face the judge. With no real good excuse for speeding and this being my first ticket, the judge decides to give me probation. He says, "No tickets between now and 6 months. If you get a ticket in the next 6 mos, I'm taking your license." I reply enthustically, "YES, Sir." I look at my watch and note that 'now' is 10am.

Six months goes by and the Sherrif shows up with a subpoena to appear in Farmville Traffic Court due to my traffic violations. I arrive in Farmville ontime and with no tickets. The judge calls my name and says, "Now didn't I tell you no tickets for 6 mos?" I reply very respectfully, "Yes your honor, you did. And if you note the time of my court appearance- 10am and the time of my ticket- 8:30am, I did not get a ticket in the time specified." He clarifies, "You mean you got a speeding ticket on the way to traffic court?!" He bursts out laughing making the Bailif laugh. I find no humor in the fines I've been paying, but do my best at a smile and chuckle. Then he asks, "Did you get a ticket today?" "No." I reply. "Then I will give you another 6 mos. probation, no tickets, and I mean it," he says. I met the demands of the probation and never had to pay fines for the original ticket.

No TV, No Problem.

The other day 4 yr old Beck was not behaving appropriately, back-talking, etc. Then he has the nerve to ask to watch a cartoon. I reply firmly, "No way, not the way you have been acting. No TV tonight." As he crosses his arms across his chest, he replies, "Fine. Then tell me a story. Tell me a story and I'll pretend like you are on TV. I'll watch you on TV." Much like the penguin fiasco, I excused myself from the room so I could laugh. I'm going to have to be quicker with my replies.

Penguins

Our son was just over 2 yrs old eating dry cereal at his little table. He decided to dump the cereal onto the table and eat from the table vs. the bowl. Needing to choose my battles, I decided not to engage- since after all, the cereal was on the table vs. the floor. No sooner had I turned my back when Beck used large sweeping motions with his hands knocking every Cheerio onto the floor. Now the battle had begun.

"BECK! Pickup those Cheerios, NOW." He replies, "No." As my blood pressure raises, I direct him, "Then go into time-out." Very willingly he walks over to the timeout spot. Eventually I come over and explain why throwing his Cheerios onto the floor is unacceptable. I tell him when he's ready to pick up the Cheerios, he can get out of time-out. After a few minutes and my patience continuing to erode, he picks up 1 Cheerio. I direct him to pick up the rest and he simply replies, "I can't, I'm a penguin." Thinking he's talking 'crazy-talk' I send the penguin back to time-out. Back and forth he goes, 1 Cheerio at a time, back to time-out...each time saying he's a penguin. Finally I take the bait, "What does being a Penguin have to do with cleaning up your Cheerios?!" He states the obvious, "Penguins don't have hands." Immediately I spun around with my back to him, my blood pressure lowers to its normal state as I burst out laughing. It was all I could do to leave the room to laugh- I couldn't let him see me laugh or he'd know he had won the battle. Having left the room to laugh so hard I cried, my husband had to finish up the discipline and make the handless penguin clean up all his Cheerios. Hearing my snickers, my husband joined me around the corner and said, "That was a good one! He got you there!"

Outsmarted by a 4 yr old

We had a play date with one of Beck's friends at our house. As kids typically do, he was being particularly protective and possessive of his toys and didn't want to share. Poor Rachel couldn't play with anything without Beck telling her it was his and she couldn't play with anything. We got after Beck and explained why he needed to share, etc.

Then Rachel wanted to play with his clay, and he clearly didn't want her playing with that either. So he says to her, "Do you like scary dragons?" Wondering where this leading question is going, I listen carefully to their conversation. Rachel replies, "No, not scary ones." Getting the response he wanted, Beck then replies, "Well this clay is dragon poop, you don't want to play with dragon poop, do you?" Disgusted with what she thinks she's holding, she throws down the clay and plays with something else. Beck looks at me and says, "I tried to share, but she didn't want to play with the clay." He got his way, and I had to give him credit for his creative manipulation. I then had to explain that his manipulation wasn't exactly acceptable either.

If he's doing this at 4 yrs old, what will he be doing at 17? I can't be one of those mother's who says, "Not my kid." I'll have to be the one who says, "It was likely my kid who started it."

Training Wheels

We bought my 4 yr old a 'big boy bike' with training wheels for his birthday. Excited to master it, he insisted on riding it everyday after school and work. Near the bike bath are these large 6'x6' concrete drainage systems, there is one about every 50 yards. They are about 1' above the ground and a nice large target for someone who can't keep the bike on the paved path.

This particular day it was just he and I. He was keeping the bike on the path so I backed off so as to not hover too closely. As luck would have it, he headed down a gentle embankment and straight for one of these massive drainage systems. I could see his front tire stopping dead in its track as he and the rest of the bike catapulted onto this obvious danger.

I quickened my pace to a sprint to save him from an inevitable crash. I reached out in time to grab the base of the hood on his sweatshirt and pulled him off of his bike. In my mind it is how Superman would have grabbed a 'bad buy' from behind and had their feet dangling above the ground. He coughs and says, "Thanks for saving me Mommy! I almost crashed into that thing!"

When we got home my husband noticed a rug-burn like mark on our son's throat. He inquired, "What happened to your neck?" I was anxious to hear how he'd retell how I had saved him...Our son excitedly replied, "Mommy chocked me." Of course he left off the part that the injury caused by the sweatshirt was far less than what he would have experienced had I not lifted him off of his bike by his hood. I was waiting for school to call the following day....

Who's being Cheap?

It was someone's birthday at work today. Emails were flying around about a card and collecting money for pizza. Her boss walks into my office and says, "Are you contributing to the card?" Instantly I'm thinking: For the card? Aren't they less than $2? YOU are the boss, aren't you making enough money to cover the cost of a greeting card for your own employee? I want her to hear what she's asking, so I reply very plainly, "How much was the card?" to which she replies very matter of factly, "99 cents." I reach in my drawer and hand her a quarter. She throws me a bewildered look and says, "Are you serious?" I raise the ante and say, "I'll give you a dollar to pay for the card if that's what you are after. What are the others giving?" She laughs and says, "I don't want your quarter for the card! I am collecting money for her gift, the others are giving $5 and you just gave me a quarter."

Here I thought she was being cheap by asking for pennies to pay for a card- when it was me who tried to give 25 cents to a birthday gift!