I am always trying to multi-task — who isn’t?  As a kid, I would brush my teeth & try to clean my ears at the same time.  I don’t recommend it unless you’re the kind of person who can rub their tummy and pat their head.  If you’re less talented like me, you’ll end up rupturing an eardrum.  Anyway, where was I?  Yes, multi-tasker.  I love making brief phone calls when I’m running errands.  Last night, on my way to meet Coach for dinner, was no exception. 

While driving through town, cell phone glued to my ear, my mom and I chatted about last minute details for the trip they are currently making.  (Bless their hearts, there are four adults & a 3-year-old driving 518 miles in a sedan.  They are somewhere in Virginia at the moment.)  I saw the police car following behind me.  No big deal.  No sweat.  I used my turn signal.  I made sure the light was green before crossing through the intersection.  But then…

Lights. Siren.

“Mom, I gotta go.  I’m getting pulled over.”

Five years ago, I would have been panic stricken to get pulled over.  I was so calm, so together, most likely because I was SO exhausted. 

“Ma’am, my name is J.J. ***.  I’m with the ** Police Department.  The reason I pulled you over is that your tag is expired.” 

I apologized, handed him my driver’s license, and then he said to me, “Hey, don’t I know you?” 

“You do.  You installed my carseat.  Want to say hello to the baby?” 

Lucky.

As I was pulled to the side of the road, everyone in town gawking as they drove by, we started chit-chatting about our kids.  He has a daughter who, like my own, prefers to play with tupperware lids instead of toys.  We chatted for about five minutes and with each gesture of his hands, I knew that the rubber neckers thought for sure that I was going to be placed on the hood of the car at any moment.  Small towns love drama. 

Guess where I have to go this afternoon?  No, not jail.  It’s much worse — the DMV.