Wednesday, February 8, 2012

How to Meet a Police Officer

I can't believe I never blogged this story.  This happened in the fall, it was a cool day and Alexander was just over a year old.

It had been a long day, but most days were when you had 4 young children under 6 years old.  I pulled into the driveway looking forward to dinner, bath and bedtime.  I realized though, that the front door looked funny.  The shadows were wrong.  The door was ajar.  I thought about what to do.  I decided to peak inside.  I thought about leaving my cell phone in the car with my children "just in case" but what kind of instructions do you give to a 5 year old about calling 911 if something bad happens.  What does that even mean to a 5 year old?

I approached the door slowly worried about what was inside.  I pushed the door open with my foot, you know, so the bad guys wouldn't get me (I guess someone watches too much tv).  The house was a disaster!  Toys everywhere, cabinets standing open, clothes on the floor.  Horrible.

I went back to the car and called the Sheriff's department and explained the situation.  I told her, "I don't remember locking the door and to be perfectly honest my house is normally pretty messy".  They decided safe was better than sorry and said they would send someone over.

Imagine my surprise when 3 black and whites showed up and an undercover car.  They had me go down the street out of the way.  I told them once again that I don't recall locking the door and I have 3 preschoolers so things tend to be messy under normal circumstances.  The police officers (men and women) drew their guns and headed into the house.  I started thinking of scenarios where burglars would jump out of windows and bullets would fly and I made sure the kids were in the car, safe.  I could hear them talking on the walkey-talkies, "clear, clear, clear . . . "

The senior officer came to talk to me.  He assured me they had looked in every room and every closet, but the 3 laptops on the desk and 2 watches on the counter were pretty solid proof that no one had been in the home.

It all came back to me then.  I had let my oldest daughter walk out of the house last and close the door behind her.  I had not locked the door and she must not have closed it all the way.  I was pretty embarrassed and apologized profusely to the officers.  They were kind and told me again it was best to check rather than send me into a home alone with my young children.  They talked with my kids a little bit and showed them the cars.

And that's how my children got their own private audience with the Briggs Sheriff's department.

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