I mentioned that we have a dog. He's a Boston Terrier mix (looks like a Boston, just a little bigger) and his name is Bubba. Not a "Bubba's one bad dude" but a "Bubba Gump". During these cool months, we've taken to leaving the sliding glass door in our bedroom open for him during the day. It's convenient. Until you find your new shoes (read that: MY new shoes), dirty clothes, or the contents of the bathroom trashcan chewed and strewn all over the back lawn.
Thursday, my step-son was walking with a friend to a local auto parts store. He is seventeen and a fair mechanic; this won't be the first fix-er-up he's fixed. I was at work, and my girl was at home. We were using IM to keep each other up-to-date on my grandma's condition (see previous post), when the topic of conversation changed.
My Girl: Um...the cops are bringing [son] home.
Me: What?
My Girl: THE COPS ARE BRINGING [SON] HOME.
Me: It's not like I couldn't hear you.
My Girl: A cop called me from [son]'s cell. He and [friend] were walking to [local auto parts store], and apparently jumped a private fence.
Me: [no response]
My Girl: He is in so much trouble.
Later, during my lunch break, we were on the phone discussing the fact that my grandma hadn't been allowed to eat and still hadn't been taken down for her MRI, and worrying that the cop still hadn't brought [son] home, when my girl said, "Here's the cop!" I thought she'd hang up and call me after her ordeal was over, but she just said "hold on"...so I got to hear the whole thing.
Officer: Hello, ma'am. I have [son], are you [my girl]?
My Girl: Yes, Sir, I am.
Officer: I'll need to see I.D. to release him to you.
My Girl: Let me grab my driver's license. [sounds of door opening, cursing, yelling dog's name, door closing]
My Girl: Officer, I'm sorry, my dog ate my wallet.
For those of you curious enough to wonder:
1. The wallet, driver's license, debit and credit cards were all found (not together, and luckily not destroyed) in the back yard in time to prove to the policeman her identity.
2. The length of time between receiving the phone call from the cop and their arrival - [friend] was escorted home first.
3. [Son] and [friend] did not "jump a private fence"; the officer observed them walking along the top of a three-foot-tall brick wall that runs along the sidewalk...the wall being privately owned, this act of derring-do was still considered trespassing. The nice officer (perhaps with boys of his own?) recognized a lack of malice (and good judgement) and simply escorted the boys to their respective homes with warnings to keep their feet on the ground.
NOTE: Names have been omitted to protect the innocent, the minors, and the embarrassed.
(Original photo by Anirudh Koul, some rights reserved.)
Couldn't he have just told them to get off the wall?! I can't believe he brought him home for that!
ReplyDeleteI laughed out loud about the dog eating the wallet. I remember the puppy days, when it was an adventure just coming home from work so I could see what the dog ate while I was gone.
Yep. Usually when she says, "He's in so much trouble," it's the dog she's talking about...and every time, she means that he ate something else of mine.
ReplyDeleteWall walking, wow. Slow day at the police force I guess. Unlike my son, who casually says things like "So, that time I was in court ..."
ReplyDeleteLOL Ilove you Mom, but I found the whole thing to be rather funny.
ReplyDeletePanther, we've been there too. At sixteen, within a month of getting his driver's license, he had no less than five tickets and a court date. The top-of-the-wall incident was peanuts, and silly enough to blog about without turning into a rant. One rant a month is enough for me, and Grandma got that one. *grin*
ReplyDeleteBaby Girl, when I heard her say "My dog ate my wallet," I lost it. I laughed until I almost peed myself, and I'm sure the cop could hear me through her phone. The-dog-ate-my-homework never worked in school; what were the odds it would work for the cops, even if it was the honest truth?