Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Works better than Ex-lax
Today was my nephew's 13th birthday party. We took River to the funpark for go-karts, mini-golf, and laser tag, then went back to Kat's for cake and presents. I called my husband, Steve, and asked him to pick up some pizza before he met us at Kat's.
We were milling around Kat's living room, admiring the balloons and crepe paper, when Steve called me to let me know he had just pulled up out front and would I please come out and help him carry in the pizza and our presents. I was almost comatose from doing batting cages out in the sun, but figured I better be helpful, and not do something mean like send my ex-husband out to help him instead.
When I walked out the front door I was surprised to see two police officers crouched down next to the front of Kat's truck. Sunday isn't a parking restriction day, could it be they were going to give Kat a ticket, but for what? Who knows, in my experience Burbank cops are strict (I was once detained an hour and fifteen minutes and given an $80 ticket for having a brake light out) so I started walking over there to ask them what the problem was.
All of the sudden, the two cops jumped out from behind the truck, cocking their rifles and running toward me, screaming. I've been around guns most of my life but there is something alarming about a two armed men running toward you screaming, with that "clickik" sound coming from the gun. I froze for just a second, wondering if perhaps they found out about that time I parked 22 minutes in a 20 minute zone, but when one cop yelled "Where is he? Where is he?" and headed toward the neighbor's yard, I realized they weren't coming after me. Instead of yelling back, "He's bringing the pizza!" I sprinted back into Kat's house and slammed the door behind me.
If you see a gun, there is a possibility that soon there will be bullets flying through the air, that I know. I burst into my nephew's birthday party screaming "GET DOWN! GET DOWN! THEY HAVE GUNS!" and everyone just looked at me. I don't know how I earned this reputation, but everyone thought I was the type of asshole who would think that would be a funny joke.
Apparently nothing came of this incident, we didn't hear any gunfire, there were no corpses strewn about the lawn, no bullet-ridden desperados clawing at the front door, but the experience really did liven up River's birthday party. It was way more fun than hiring a clown.
We were milling around Kat's living room, admiring the balloons and crepe paper, when Steve called me to let me know he had just pulled up out front and would I please come out and help him carry in the pizza and our presents. I was almost comatose from doing batting cages out in the sun, but figured I better be helpful, and not do something mean like send my ex-husband out to help him instead.
When I walked out the front door I was surprised to see two police officers crouched down next to the front of Kat's truck. Sunday isn't a parking restriction day, could it be they were going to give Kat a ticket, but for what? Who knows, in my experience Burbank cops are strict (I was once detained an hour and fifteen minutes and given an $80 ticket for having a brake light out) so I started walking over there to ask them what the problem was.
All of the sudden, the two cops jumped out from behind the truck, cocking their rifles and running toward me, screaming. I've been around guns most of my life but there is something alarming about a two armed men running toward you screaming, with that "clickik" sound coming from the gun. I froze for just a second, wondering if perhaps they found out about that time I parked 22 minutes in a 20 minute zone, but when one cop yelled "Where is he? Where is he?" and headed toward the neighbor's yard, I realized they weren't coming after me. Instead of yelling back, "He's bringing the pizza!" I sprinted back into Kat's house and slammed the door behind me.
If you see a gun, there is a possibility that soon there will be bullets flying through the air, that I know. I burst into my nephew's birthday party screaming "GET DOWN! GET DOWN! THEY HAVE GUNS!" and everyone just looked at me. I don't know how I earned this reputation, but everyone thought I was the type of asshole who would think that would be a funny joke.
Apparently nothing came of this incident, we didn't hear any gunfire, there were no corpses strewn about the lawn, no bullet-ridden desperados clawing at the front door, but the experience really did liven up River's birthday party. It was way more fun than hiring a clown.
