Definitely not a trip to Alaska

There were commercials on a few years ago, probably for Southwest Airlines since they tend to have the funny commercials. At any rate, they came up with alternate words for things. Instead of “tryptophan,” they came up with “trip-to-Alaska.” Now any time we have roast turkey and Kurt wants to say that the tryptophan is kicking in, he says “trip-to-Alaska” instead.

Today was certainly no trip to Alaska. Kurt woke me out of a sound sleep at 8:30am, after I’d gone to sleep sometime after 1:30am, to tell me that my friend couldn’t stand up without vomiting, and that she needed to go to the ER. So I bolted out of bed and jumped in the shower, knowing that they were going to bring D over so I could keep him occupied.

He’s been here since 9am, and I tell you what. I am exhausted. I mean, I know every kid is different, but he is so completely different from Grace I don’t even know where to start. None of my little tricks of the trade work on him, so it’s been a battle in my mind to figure out how to deal with him.

And you know, he’s a really good kid. I’d hate to know what a bad kid would do to me.

For most of the morning, the kids just ran themselves ragged playing in Grace’s room. By the time they were done, it looked like someone had picked up her room, shook it and rattled around a bit, and then plopped it back down. There were toys on the floor that I’d forgotten we had!

Kurt is generally home by 11:30am for lunch, but today he wasn’t. He went to court instead. See, wayyyyyyy back in February we’d gotten a ticket when we attempted to visit the zoo in Boston. We were on an unmarked (ie, no lane striping) one-way street adjacent to the zoo. This street was only for zoo traffic, and since it was February, there were no other cars around us. There was a small loop coming off the one-way street to the left that had some parking. Kurt went to make a left into the loop when I noticed a sign saying, “Zoo parking, straight ahead.” When I pointed that out, Kurt jerked the steering wheel back to the right and continued to go straight. We were doing probably 5mph at this point because we were obviously lost.

A cop was directly behind us, and immediately put on his siren and his lights. Dammit!! He asked for license and registration, and that was it. No friendly chit-chat asking, “Do you know why I pulled you over today?” which is what every other cop I have had to deal with has said right off the bat. No explanation of what we did wrong. There was just absolute silence and a total glower on his face the entire time.

Finally after sitting in his cruiser for about ten minutes, he came back and told Kurt to sign the bottom of the ticket. Kurt’s steaming by this time, but only I could tell. He asked what he’d done wrong, and the cop simply muttered, over and over again, “Read the ticket.” No “Have a nice day,” no “Drive more safely next time,” nothing. Just “Read the ticket” as he stomped back to his patrol car.

Jerk.

Kurt read the ticket, and he was being cited for an improper lane change with a fine costing $100! How is there an improper lane change when there is only one lane? We were floored. We took photos of the scene and decided to fight the ticket.

Like I said, this was back in February. I finally had Kurt call the courthouse in Boston sometime in April because I was paranoid that the paperwork had gotten lost, and now there was a warrant out for his arrest. Or that his car would be impounded for unpaid tickets if we ever went back to Boston (not likely; those drivers are psycho). When he finally got a hold of the right department, he was told that it wasn’t unusual to have four months or more elapse between the violation and the court date.

Hence Kurt’s court date today.

He went to court in his dress whites, looking all spiffy and white. He hates that uniform, mainly because he attracts dirt like iron filings to a magnet. But he does look awesome in it!

Once it was his turn to argue his case, the judge took one look at his ticket and exclaimed, “This police officer was out of his jurisdiction! I have no idea why he cited you. Case dismissed.”

I’ll tell you why we were cited. I will bet you anything that he took one look at our Washington license plates, saw us do a questionable maneuver, and decided there was no way we could fight it. I’m not saying all cops are unethical that way; I’m only saying that I think this one was. Thank goodness we were here in Rhode Island and could fight the ticket.

There was another woman who was fighting an “improper lane change” ticket at the courthouse today.  There was a left turn lane and two lanes going straight at the stop light.  She was in the left lane going straight, but then she realized she wanted to turn left.  She decided to cut off the traffic that was in the left lane legally turning left and was cited for an improper lane change.  That, my friends, fits my definition of what an improper lane change would be.

But that meant Kurt wasn’t home to help me out with Grace and D. While he was gone, I made lunch — hot dogs, mac n’ cheese, and strawberries. Definitely a kid pleaser.

Kurt finally got home at almost 2pm, so we threw the kids into their swim suits and took them out back to play with this neat sprinkler toy we got at the Christmas Tree Shoppe. It’s a palm tree that’s supposed to spin around and spray water out at all kinds of weird angles, but it’s not exactly the best quality. It doesn’t actually spin after a while. But the kids still loved it, and it was awesome hearing their shrieks of laughter as they cavorted in the water.

Dinner was early because Kurt’s got college tonight, and you know — it’s still stinkin’ hot. Yesterday the forecast was for 71º today, but it’s gotten up to at least 80º. At least it was breezy today, but it’s still hot. I’m so exhausted, and I’m tired, and I’m cranky. Unfortunately my friend is still at the ER; the doctors have no idea what’s going on with her, except that it’s not a kidney stone. I feel so badly for her.

But right now, all I want to do is collapse into bed. I tell you what, sometimes being a grown-up isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.