I think I scare some people. I really don't mean to, its just that I feel this wave rushing up in me sometimes and then it starts to gush...and I gush, and the words come out and I get louder because I want to make sure they are understanding me, I mean REALLY understanding me and feeling it like I am feeling it and...OH! It is SO HARD being me sometimes!! Read on...READ ON, OK, this is IMPORTANT TO ME...
So I lugged those girls back to Clifton Forge again today to switch vehicles with Andy. My ever-lovin' husband is so calm, (usually) so patient (OK, not usually, but he's getting better) with me, always thinking a step ahead while I remain firmly in the moment....and he listens to me tell how we're going to the park and then to the library because the CF library has a better selection of books for our homeschool curriculum, and, "OH, daggone it, I forgot my wallet. A-gain."(pronounced, per Hannah, ah-gain). Can I use your library card?
This is where Andy wisely pauses, looks me over and says, "No." Its love. Tough Love. He knows that I have an $8 fine on my account and that he doesn't want to destroy his own library credit with my forgetfulness. However, after pleads from the Littles, he gives in, he says, "against his better judgment."
So we go to the park, play, go to the library, play, get books and jam back in the truck to go home. Or, rather, to the transfer station because the trash bags in the back are getting stinky...
So on the way out of town, Hannah sees a CF local flash his thumb out for a ride. I try to explain hitchhiking, Jack Kerouac, On the Road, the Beat Generation, and so on.....she loses interest, so I tell her we'll watch for the "no hitchhiking" sign at the on ramp of the interstate.
I'm happily chatting it up when I turn left in front of Dabney, pull on to the on ramp, and There They Are. Two of Virginia's Finest writing invitations to join them in court at a date in the near future.
Sadly, instead of whispering a prayer to the Lord for their safety and mine, I say,
"Crap. Crap, crap, crap."
"Why you say crap, Mama?"
"Mama's getting ready to get a ticket."
"Are you going to jail, Mama?"
"No, I hope not."
"Can I come? I want to see you in jail, mama!"
"No, be quiet, I have to think."
"I wanna go to jail!!"
"No, I'm going to jail with mama!"
"Mama's going to jail, mama's going to jay-ayl"
"Mama is NOT going to jail, please be quiet. We're next."
So the trooper waits for me to hand over my license.
I give him Andy's library card and flip up the checkbook so our address shows.
I say, "Look. We came to Clifton to switch vehicles and so I could dump the trash. I got there, realized I'd left my wallet at home and even had to borry my husband's library card."
"Is mama going to jail?"
"We live in Callaghan..."
"What is YOUR name?"
"Heidi Morris. Here, see on the checkbook?" I thrust the checkbook at him, and I swear he took a step back.
"Do you have a license?"
"Yes, its at home. Its in my purse. I just got a purse and I'm not used to carrying it. I have to keep up with the girls, and...."
"Is it suspended?" I notice for every octave my voice rises, his drops. He's goooood. It just wasn't working for me.
"No. I promise. That last ticket I got was in Rainelle over a year ago and I just didn't see the sign....."
"Are you wanted for anything?"
"No, nothing. Never." (I'm practically yelling now, I'm so emphatic.) (He just HAS to believe me!)
"OK, just don't let it happen again."
"I'm really careful about not speeding, in fact...."
"Your wallet. Don't let it happen again that you forget your wallet."
And he takes a very OBVIOUS step back and waves me on.
We never did see the no hitchhiking sign.
But we did pray and thank God that I didn't have to go to jail.
And Andy wonders why I need naps.