Another Birthday, Another Police Run-in

Who would have guessed that I’m not the lead-foot of the family anymore? As we sped through New Jersey, en route to our Rehoboth Beach vacation, Andy suddenly lets off the gas and says we’re getting pulled over. I’m just waking up. He says when he started to ease off he was going 87 miles per hour, so who knows what he was clocked at.

{For the record, in New Jersey I was only stopped for speeding once: the police officer came up to my window and asked me if I knew I was speeding. ‘No, officer, I thought I was going with the flow of traffic.’ His response: ‘Blowing by everyone in the passing lane is not going with the flow of traffic.’ Oopsie.}

Now it was Andy’s turn in the hot seat. “Tell him you were an officer,” I whisper as Mr. Police Officer approached the passenger side. I smile and Andy spits out his Guilderland cop info, showing his badge. “What is ‘Gilder-Land?'” he asks, as any reasonable person would. Andy explains. I fear it won’t be enough, so I turn to the officer and ask, “Would it help if it’s my birthday?” and I quickly show him my driver’s license. “There it is, 8/24,” he says before telling us he’ll be right back.

I’m more amused than anything else, because Andy doesn’t usually get himself into these predicaments. I’m already texting everyone I know with the news as the officer returns with a written warning, a smile, and a wish for me to have a happy birthday, then we are on our way again. A birthday vacation in Rehoboth Beach has begun with an almost-bang…

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