My Mondays are always particularly insulting, because not only is it the end of the weekend, but it's one of the busiest days of our week, appointment wise. Cecilia gets dropped off at school at a little before nine, and then we head up to Springfield for Luc's physical therapy appointment.
The ride to Springfield takes a good half hour to forty-five minutes, since the straggling DC commuters are blocking up I-95. Lucas usually naps on the way up, and it's a nice quiet little ride, in which 99.9% of the time I cry. I really dread going there. I dread watching him struggle; I dread hearing him cry when he gets frustrated that his little body fails him; and I really, really hate that other than bringing him to physical therapy, there is little I can do for him.
Today I was driving along, only a few more blocks to go, minding my own business (or wallowing, whichever.) when I heard the all too familiar woop-woop of a police car. I looked in my rearview mirror and there was a cop with his lights on! I looked around the road I was on, surely he didn't mean me. But since I was the only car on the road, and the cop was inches from my truck, I supposed he did, in fact, mean me.
I pulled to the side, and wiped leftover tears from my cheeks. I tried to roll down the window, but it wouldn't work! The entire control system on my door was dead. By this time, the cop had reached my window, and was rapping on it impatiently. I reached behind me and rolled down Lucas' window.
Policeman: Why won't you put down your window?
Saki: It's broken. See? *makes overdramatic show of pushing dysfunctional button*
Policeman: Why is it broken?
Saki: . . .
Policeman: License and registration, please.
Saki: *sighs and hands over license and insurance card*
Policeman: This is an insurance card.
Saki: Don't you need that?
Policeman: I need registration.
Policeman: The reason I pulled you over is because your tags are expired.
Saki: Oh, ya, they're not. I have stickers for them that are good until 2012, I just haven't stuck them on there.
This is where the officer makes his tragic error.
Policeman: Why haven't you put the stickers on?
Saki: Itjustreallywasn'tonthetopofmytodolist.Theycameoverthesummer,andIhadareallybadsummer,andbadthingshappened,andIthoughtmybabywasdying,andI'mjusttryingtobringhimtophysicaltherapy,andifIhadtimetoputthestickerson,Iwouldhavehadtimetodothingslikefixthewindowformycar,andnowIhavetodrivetostupidphysicaltherapyandIdon'twantto,thewholethingisjustveryupsetting,andI'mrunninglatenow,becauseIhadtoexplaintoyouwhyIdon'thavestickersonmytag- -
Policeman: *awkwardly tries to hand back my license*
Saki: - - whichreallyisn'tthatbigofadealbecausemycarisinspectedandI'vealreadypaidformyinsurance,Ijustreallydidn'teventhinkaboutputtingonthestickers,becauseIhadsomanythingsrunningthroughmybrainand--
Policeman: *Awkwardly tries to hand back my license*
Policeman: Ma'am, take your license back. Listen, when you get home today, have your husband or a neighbor or someone get your stickers and put them on your car, okay?
Policeman: You have a good day, Ma'am.
So clearly, the way to get out of a ticket is to have word vomit and take out a summers worth of frustration on the officer. Yay for acting like a complete lunatic?
Also, you'll be happy to know that the Hubbin' came home last night and put the stickers on my car. So I may be a complete lunatic, but my car is legal.