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Karma. She'll Get You Every Time.

I got my first-ever ticket last night.

I got pulled over as I was going to pick up the girls, and because I am a safe and cautious driver I was genuinely bewildered as to why I had been stopped. The officer came up to my window and said, “I was behind you at a stoplight and punched in your license plate [can they just do that? Randomly and without cause? I guess they can], and it came up that your registration is expired.” I knew this to not be the case. He continued, “But then once you were pulled over I looked down and saw that I’d transposed some numbers. Your registration is up to date.” Then he smiled and I thought he was going to let me go. But there was more: “But THEN I noticed that your driver’s license is expired.”

Busted. It expired on my birthday, back in January, and I keep forgetting to get it renewed. I’ve thought about it at impractical times, like at 9:30 pm while I’m brushing my teeth. And in my (pathetic) defense, I have to add that when you work 9-5 every day, and rarely take a lunch hour, it’s difficult to find the time to get to the DMV. But it’s totally my fault and I feel stupid and sheepish and all that.

However, I think he should’ve just let me go when he realized that his original reason for pulling me over wasn’t valid. Argh!




And this is a story about parental karma, or at least a lesson in parental humility (and believe me, as a parent I’ve had plenty of those).

Aimee, Seth and Rhett came to visit us when Rhett was about 20 months old – same age Phoebe is now. Rhett was even more verbally precocious than Phoebe is, and he was such a cute, cute little guy. Mallory was 9 months and had just learned to crawl; rather, she had just learned to drag herself across the room with her elbows (she never did learn how to get up on her knees, in fact). The first time Rhett witnessed this commando-crawl he said, “What is she doing?” and then knelt down and asked her very gently, “Baby, are you okay?”

Anyway. We went out to dinner several times during their visit and Rhett was, well, Rhett was 20 months old. He was absolutely not BAD, there were no tantrums or fits; it’s just that Aimee and Seth had to work really hard to keep him entertained and happy while we sat there and ate.

And I admit that – although I must emphasize that I did not think that Rhett was being a bad kid – I felt just the teensiest bit smug at how nicely Mallory behaved at restaurants. She just sat there in her high chair and ate her applesauce and charmed the waitresses and was a perfect little sweetheart.

Well. Fast forward one year. Mallory got to be Rhett’s age, and Chris and I couldn’t take her anywhere for about six months. And ever since, while I am always pleased when my children do behave nicely, I never take it for granted. Or feel pleased with myself for their behavior either. Because sooner or later, it’s gonna change. Lesson learned!

Comments

aimee said…
Oh, how funny! I remember that! We felt so bad that Rhett would not keep still or quiet! And I was looking at Mallory, thinking, wow, she is being so good! In a few short months, I had forgotten that Rhett was once like that too.

That is a bummer about your ticket. The officer should have let you go for invasion of privacy. Or just being wrong.

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