Get Out of my Way. I’m Going To Jail.

In order for you to know me better, I thought I ought to tell you a few of the personal facts about myself that friends like to share with each other. My favorite color is blue. I love James Taylor music. I hate salmon patties. And there was once a warrant issued for my arrest.

The Crime: About 12 years ago, I was stopped for driving 15 miles over the speed limit.

The Appeal: I stuffed the box of dry cereal that I had been eating for breakfast under the seat and wiped my mouth with our infant’s spit-up rag. It was the only faux napkin available other than the used tissue on the floor and the ketchup-covered Burger King bag in the back seat. Then, I appealed for leniency with the best smile and slight eyebrow flirt that I could muster after 20 years of marriage.

The Denial: Evidently the police officer wasn’t impressed with my grinning grimace or the Coco Puffs/baby puke odor on my breath, because he gave me a ticket and a three figure fine.

What My Lawyer Said: Actually, I can’t tell you what my husband, the lawyer, said without being censored, but his last words were, “Don’t pay the fine. I’ll take care of it.” A couple of weeks later, a warrant was issued for my arrest for failure to appear in court to pay that fine.

My Response: I never considered suing my lawyer since that would come back to bite me in the bank account. I did, however, consider bringing some actions against him that would turn him into a Sue with a high soprano voice.

But then, I began to see possibilities in the situation.

What would happen if I welcomed the deputy into my home, took the arrest document from his hands and willingly went to jail? I would either have some time to myself or the opportunity to make new friends. Of course, the policeman would have to stay and take care of my kids, but he did agree to hazardous duty when he pinned on his badge.

In the end, I was a little disappointed when my husband got the warrant dismissed. A part of me was looking forward to an encounter with the police. I had decided that I would not remain silent.

“Hello, deputy. I’m ready to go but you’ll be needing to stay here with my children.

Load all the kids in my car, and take #1 out for practice driving time. Make #2 do her bathroom chores. When she finishes, stick your head in the toilet to make sure she cleaned under the rim. Number 3 has a model of the solar system due tomorrow. Do not, under any circumstances, let him help but make it look like fourth grade work. Make two dozen cat-face cupcakes for #4 to take to school in the morning. And #5 is sitting in a diaper that is so wet, she is treading water.

I’ll be needing to borrow the keys to the squad car so I can drive myself to jail. Could you handcuff me so I won’t be tempted to stop and pick up stray toys on the way out?

And by the way, I’ll be running the siren in accompaniment to the Hallelujah Chorus that I’ll be singing as I leave the driveway.”