I LOVE the Very Nice Policeman

I’d just like to admit to public humiliation here because that’s what us bloggers do. Why? I have no idea. We do seem compelled to do it though.

Last night I was taking my oldest son’s friend home and got pulled over by the police. But wait! As any story on the internet, this one gets better. It was around 9:30 and he only lives about a mile or so away.


Very Nice Policeman: “License and registration.”

Me: “Ah, I don’t have my license. I’m in my pajamas. I was just bringing my son’s friend home.” I gestured to my very obvious pajama pants and pink fuzzy slippers. “Wait, the registration’s here.”

VNP: “Is the vehicle registered to you?”

Me: “Yes. I mean no. I mean it might be registered to my husband.”

VNP: “Do you know why I stopped you?”

Me: “Uh, no.”

VNP: “You didn’t come to a complete stop when you pulled out of that side street.”

Me: “Ah yeah. I live on that side street.” Not sure why I thought I should mention this.

VNP: “Have you noticed your muffler is very loud?”

Me: “Yeah, I asked my husband to have it taken care of but he hasn’t gotten to it yet.” Again, not sure why I can’t keep my damn mouth shut.

VNP: “You’re GOING to have it looked at. Right?”

Me: “Yes, of course. Right away.”

VNP: “Ok.”


And he then WALKED AWAY.

I have never gotten pulled over and not received a ticket.

N.E.V.E.R.