He's a keeper

My Camden.

Yesterday, he and I were waiting at the pool for Kobe to finish his swim lessons. Camden came up from under the water and said, "Did you know I can talk under water?"

"I didn't know that. How do you do it?" I asked.

"I go like this," and he smiled real big. As in show all his teeth big. Then he dunked is head in the water and shook it a bit. He popped back up and asked, "Do you know what that means?"

"Nope. What did that mean?"

"It means 'Camden is awesome!'"

He is a keeper, I tell you.

Then today, my kids were talking about how great it would be if we could get a cat. If you know anything about me you should know that I have a great un-love for cats. The whole rubbing up to my legs and purring in my ear and hissing at me in the middle of the night. Add that Hubs is allergic and there is no way we are getting a cat.

Camden comes up to me and asks, "If there was a different dad who wasn't allergic to cats, could we have a cat then?"

"Well, I guess if he wasn't allergic," I answered.

He thought about it for about two seconds. "I don't want our dad anymore. Let's get a different dad. Then we can get a cat."

Wow. He really wants a cat.

A keeper indeed.

I'm linking up to ABC Thursday and Writer's Workshop.

So I Married a Deaf Man: Move along!

Sometimes the fun of doing the thing is hearing the thing.

Like screaming. What's the point of doing it if you can't hear it? Think about it.

This is apparently also true of honking the horn. Hubs refuses to do it. No amount of encouragement from me will sway him.

Don't misunderstand. I am not heavy on the horn in the least. However, there are times when the horn comes in handy. Like when you are late to work and the person in front of you is texting and the turning arrow has been green for a good 5 seconds. A short honk fixes the problem.

Or when someone is about to cut you off on a freeway and could quite possibly send you in to a spinning teacup if they aren't careful. HONK! will make the person look twice. Or at least swerve back into their lane.

I don't think in the almost 13 years of being married to this guy, has he ever honked the horn at someone he didn't know.

He has absolutely no problem honking it when I am unsuspectingly walking in front of the car. He honks and I jump about 7 feet in the air. No problem honking then.  Or when I am late for church (which is every week). Honk honk honk. No wait, that would be my children, not my husband.

But the minute he puts the car in gear, the horn becomes off limits.

People don't hold back for him. Oh no! I can't tell you how many times he has been honked at. And I can only tell you about the times I was in the car to tell him. He just laughs. I do too, to be honest. If they only knew that they were honking and carrying on to someone who can't hear a dang thing...I bet they would feel stupid.

Nope. Hubs doesn't honk the horn. Like I said, the fun of doing the thing is hearing the thing.

And that is why they should put horns on the passenger side.

Peace

Who knew that "Going to see a man about a horse" meant that you were taking a trip to the toilet. A long trip. When I asked my dad about it this weekend, he denied knowing that's what it meant. And I really hope that he didn't know because he and mom took quite a few trips to that man and his horse together.

I'm just saying.

I have always said that I could never live in California because they have earthquakes (and wacky law makers as well...but we don't talk politics here, do we?). I could never live in the Midwest because they have tornadoes. The south and southeast have hurricanes. And the northeast coast...well, it's just too dang far from family.

I would rather live in the west.

Why? There are really no real natural disasters. Except drought. That's not so bad. Or so I thought.

Last night, I was getting my kids into bed and I noticed this red glow on the other side of town. It was a fire. A large fire. And it actually was not across town. More like 2 hours away. In the mountains. But I could see the fire from my kids' windows.

The huge AZ fire burning sent smoke into our state that made my eyes burn and forced me to keep my kids inside during the early evening. Fires to the north of us. Fires to the south. Fires to the west.

"No danger with drought." Stupid, huh.

Ugh! My heart goes out to those who have lost so much this year with the tornadoes, the tsunami, the floods, the fires, the earthquakes. To have lost homes, possessions, pictures, family members....so tragic. I can't even imagine how that feels.

I pray. I pray for the children, that they can find peace and comfort. I pray for families, that they can be strengthened through trials. I pray for the animals who have also lost their homes. I pray for those rescuers, both professionals and those with arms stretched out to those in need.

Mostly, though, I pray that all of this tragedy will turn us to God. All of us: the good, the bad and the ugly....and I am not telling you which one I am. If struggles like these don't turn us to God, it will only turn us into bitter. And what good is that!?!

In the end, it really doesn't matter where you live...as long as God is close, all is well.

 He didn't say easy, just well.

Vague

"I'm going to see a man about a horse."

That is what my mom and dad would say to me when I was young and asking where they were going.

They weren't really going to see a man about a horse. That would have been purposterous. We didn't have space for a horse. We didn't have hay to feed the horse. And Mom was the only one who knew how to ride a horse.

That is just what they would say so that they wouldn't have to tell us where they were going.

Tonight, when I asked my creative brain where it had gone, it responded, "To see a man about a horse."

Since it has left and I don't know when it will be coming back, I will leave you with the words of a song my dad used to sing to me. Say it a few times in your head. You just may laugh.

"She has freckles on her but I love her so."

What one liners did your parents use on you?

Leaping lizards!

Hubs loves animals. I am not sure where this love comes from, but I am going to guess it all started with his lizard.

One summer, when he was very young, he caught himself a lizard. It must have been love at first sight. He built it a home of wood and rock. I can just imagine him lifting off the top and petting the little guy.

But after petting him for a while he got bored. Or maybe it was curiosity? Maybe he was just being a boy.

He ran inside and came out with a surprise. He lifted the lid, aimed the BB gun and pulled the trigger. I know, horrible.

Only he didn't understand that shooting it with a BB gun would hurt it, much less kill it.

He bent down and looked at it. When it didn't move, he touched it. When he realized that it was dead, he was devastated. He cried. A lot. Looking for comfort he ran into his mom and spilled the beans.

"Mom, someone came and shot my lizard with a BB gun," he wailed. She didn't believe him.

So this sweet little lizard killing boy walks out, digs a grave, carries the limp body and buries his lizard.

And that is where his love for animals began.

At least until he was introduced to the paintball gun.

But that's a story for another day.

So I Married a Deaf Man: Ding Dong

Did you know you can buy a light that can hook up to your doorbell so that when someone comes to your house lights will flash? Wouldn't that be great? No? Well, that's how most Deaf people do it.

I say most because we don't have one of those. I leave it to Hubs to get what he needs. He apparently doesn't see the need, so we don't have strobes going off whenever anyone rings the bell. (Ring my beee...eee..eeelll. Ring my bell! Sorry, I couldn't resist a little jingle.)

"How does Hubs know someone is at your door?" you may ask.

Well, he doesn't.

Okay, that's not entirely true. If I am home, he will see me run to the door. If I am not there he will see the kids run to the door. If he is home alone, he will see the dog run to the door.

We are his own little personal strobes.

However, in the rare case that no-one is strobbing, then he sits there, unaware that someone wants in. You may peek through the window and see him sitting there. But unless he sees you, he isn't going to be opening the door for you.

No problem, just come in.

It's the Deaf way. First you ring. Then you peek in the window. If you see them, you try the door. If it is open, you reach in and find the light switch and proceed to flick it on and off until it gets their attention. If it does not, then you walk into their line of sight and wave your arms. If that doesn't work, just sneak up behind them and put them in a choke hold. They really like that. A lot.

If the door is locked, you can kick the door with your foot to see if you can make enough of a vibration to get their attention. If that doesn't work, you should try what Hubs' friend did.

One day, when Hubs was on his mission, he met up with a member of the church to talk to a Deaf man who was interested in the church. When they got to the door, there was no bell. They peeked in the window and there the man sat, watching TV, with his back to the window.

They tried waving. No good. They tried kicking. Nope. They even tried throwing spit wads at the guy through the window. That's just lovely. But wait.

Just then, the member says, "You might want to stand back. I am a black belt in karate. I can get us in." Not sure what he was going to do, Hubs stepped back.

The man stood in front of the door, closed his eyes, took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled out. Then he drew back his arm and proceeded to put his fist through the door. As in all the way through the door. I am not sure what he was trying to do. Maybe knock the door open? Down? But I am pretty sure he wasn't trying to make a hole in the door.

He did, however, succeed in getting the man's attention. Mission accomplished.

So if ever you want to visit when Hubs is home, please keep your karate skills to yourself and just walk in.

My door thanks you.

The apple of my eye!

"Who does that?" my friend asked with disgust in her voice.

"What?" I turned to see what she was looking at.

There, at the far end of the park was what appeared to be a teenager with his back towards us, his front directly facing a tree, one that was rapidly getting it's trunk "watered."

"Here!?? At the park? Does he not see that there are children at play here???" I asked.

You never know the kind of people you are going to run into at the park. Men, and I mean really old men, who like to run with their shirts off and do aerobic exercises in the middle of the day. Broken hearted teenagers who have nothing better to do but write hate notes on the benches to someone who will probably never see their art work.

It's one thing if it's a 3 year old or 5 year old or even an 8 year old who wets a bush every now and again. But a teenager? Really?

"He walked here so he can't live that far away. If you have to go, just walk home...geez! I bet if his mother knew..." I started.

"Wait," she interrupted. "Isn't that your son?"

I've never been more proud.

Ever.

The Echo

The other morning as I was waiting for my son to finish swim team, I read this poem by C.C. Miller. It really struck a chord with me and helped me to realize how important my job as a mother is.

’Twas a sheep not a lamb

That strayed away in the parable Jesus told,
A grown-up sheep that strayed away
From the ninety and nine in the fold.


And why for the sheep should we seek
And earnestly hope and pray?
Because there is danger when sheep go wrong:
They lead the lambs astray.


Lambs will follow the sheep, you know,
Wherever the sheep may stray.
When sheep go wrong,
It won’t take long till the lambs are as wrong as they.


And so with the sheep we earnestly plead
For the sake of the lambs today,
For when the sheep are lost
What a terrible cost
The lambs will have to pay.

Our children need parents who will lead them in good ways. Lead them into responsibility, into honesty, into kindness. Parents who will teach them respect and charity and loyalty. Parents who will teach their children about the Lord and on whose arm they must rely. 
 
I need to do better. Much better. For these sweet lambs are only lent to me for a short time. I must lead them to our Shepherd. Their Shepherd. The Shepherd. 
 
Let's not forget!

Salad Party....finish!

Of all the days to let my talent of not taking pictures to show up, it would be the day when my island was filled with salad yumminess.

Yup. No pictures. Sorry.

So instead I can share some of the recipes with you.

Here is one of the salads I made: Pretzel Salad. (I lied. There is a picture...just not mine. Thanks google.)

One word: OhMyGosh!!!!

Here is the recipe:
http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Judys-Strawberry-Pretzel-Salad/Detail.aspx

I had actually never made this salad before. Or even tasted it. But then a friend of mine thought that I had signed up to bring it to some church event and was so disappointed when I didn't.  She almost unfriended me on Facebook. Geesh, lady!

So, in her honor I made it. Only she didn't come. Guess who's unfriending now?

Nah! More for me!!

I also made a taco salad. One that really doesn't have a recipe. All I do is toss together romaine lettuce, taco seasoned hamburger, cheese, salsa,  kidney beans, avocado, tomato, red onions (which really are purple...but whatever.) Stir it all together and serve with tortilla chips. So good!


We had Susan's  Mandarin Orange Almond Salad.
Amy's Spinach Salad

We had a few other salads so once I get those recipes, I will add them as well.

What about you? Any really good salad recipes?

Next month we are doing appetizers. Anyone have some good ones to share? Maybe we can do a linky party and you all can join in the sharing fun?

What do ya think?

WHAT are you doing???

Sometimes Mom just did things.

She would get an itch or a notion, or an idea and she would just go with it.

For example: One day she was well...sitting on the throne. I am not sure if the reading material just wasn't cutting it that day. Maybe all eight of us kids were actually letting her have time alone in there. I'm not sure. But she just started peeling the wallpaper off the wall.

Huh?

I thought that wasn't allowed because I had actually tried it early on in my life. My sister, her friend and I pulled off the pink zoo animal wallpaper from our walls. In large strips. And I distinctly remember all of us, and I do mean all of us, getting a spank for that.

No spanks for Mama, though. Nope. Just a new look for the bathroom.

Then there was the time that I came home from school and she was painting squares on the wall. Big ones. In the front room. Ummm...okay. But, as usual, she had a plan and it looked great.

But the biggest was when we woke up one morning to Mom tearing the cupboards right off the ceiling. What the....? Now, I am sure that she had discussed it with Dad.

"Hey, honey! You know these cupboards in the kitchen. Well, they aren't doing it for me anymore. I'm going to get rid of them, okay? What's that you say? I can't hear you over my kitchen demolition. Can't hear you..."

But us kids, not a clue.

To us, she was just...well...losing it. Eight kids can do that to a person.

Today was one of those days for me.

I went outside to pull some weeds and fix the front yard a bit. I looked over at that bush. That annoying, overreaching, stinky, weed creating sage bush. Yes, yes.... I know they make nice purple flowers. Only this year it got so cold that half the thing was dead.

(That or I forgot to water it. Let's go with the weather.)

I was done with it. So I grabbed the pruning sheers and went to work. Okay, I made my kids help me too. I hacked it so much that I almost broke the pruning sheers. It put up some fight. I have scratches all over my arms and legs, but in the end, I won!

Now there is just a...stump...er...branch-less root? Whatever you call it, it could grow back, but we should be able to tame it if it does.

Mom would be proud!

I may have overreacted

Have you ever been hormonal? I don't mean the normal, monthly run-or-the-mill hormonal. I'm talking stand-back-she-is-gonna-blow hormonal.

I have.

Normally I am an easy going, go with the flow type gal. I don't really freak out much, though my kids would disagree. If anything, I cry a little more around that time of the month. But in general, I'm pretty predictable.

Unless I've just had a baby. Then all bets are off.

The sad part is that it usually spills out all over my mother-in-law. Not because I don't love my mother-in-law, because I do. Dearly. It's because my mom comes right after the baby is born when I am still on the just-had-a-baby emotional high. And then Hubs' mom comes during the emotional crash and burn.

So sorry, Mom!

The worst time, though, was with my first. You know how you are with your first. You want to do everything. You want to hold them when they cry. You want to change their cute yellow poop. You want to bath them. I was no different.

Well, the day before my mom left, I woke up in the middle of the night shivering. I couldn't get warm. It was obvious to my mom that I had a fever. At that point, nothing was obvious to me other than I was really, really tired and in pain all over and couldn't stop shaking.

Come to find out I had a UTI. Those are fun.

Well, now everyone was worrying and trying to take care of me: having me rest, taking the baby whenever he cried, etc. But I didn't want to sleep. I wanted to be the mom, not the invalid. Yes, I would have given an arm and a leg and quite possibly one of my children to be bedridden with my last. Young and naive was I.

The more his mom helped, the more resentful I became. He'd cry, she would pick him up. Grrrrr. I would nurse him, she would burp him. Grrrrr. She would rock him to sleep, I would watch. Grrrr Grrr Grrrrr! (See, irrational.)

One evening, Hubs and his mom were getting ready to go shopping (Hubs loves to shop...girl!) and I was lying down on a bed in the living room with Kobe cuddled up close to me. My mother-in-law offered to put Kobe in the crib so that I could sleep without worrying about rolling over on him.

I was so upset. Mostly inside myself. I really am a wimp when it comes to conflict. But I wrapped my arms around my baby and snapped back, "We are fine. He is fine. We are going to be fine. Just go."

The minute they walked out the door I cried. And then cried some more. Then I pouted. Aaand cried some more. I did eventually move him because I was so tired and didn't want to kill him in my sleep.

Looking back, it was such a blessing to have her there at that time. Looking back, I can't believe that she still loves me, regardless of my post partum problems.

Thank goodness there were no hot flashes.

Have you ever gone hormonal on someone?


Linking up with ABC Thursday and Writer's Workshop.

So I Married a Deaf Man: Just believe you can do it!

Hubs loves his apps. You know, for his iPhone. He is always looking and finding really cool things to add to his phone.
He found one that can make time lapse films (I know this because he made one of our trip home from CA.) And of course another app to edit the film, which he used to remove all sound including fighting, yelling and maybe even some empty threats. 

He found one that can make your face look like Sloth, the guy from The Goonies.

He found this app for when he goes biking. I believe he can see how far he has traveled and his average speed and how many calories he has burned. Pretty much does everything for him except ride the bike.


And more....

He decided to try out this new app when he went biking with a friend a month ago. He kept looking at it periodically during the ride.

When they finally stopped to take a breath, his friend said to him, "Your phone is talking to you."

Literally. 

"What? Really? What is it saying?", Hubs asked.

"You can do it!" and "Just a little farther!" and  "Don't stop now!" and "You're wife is going to thank you later!!" (Okay, so I added that last one in for fun.) Basically, it was speaking to Hubs all these positive affirmations to encourage him to ride to the top of his game.

In vain. 

Though, I may just try that app when I am folding laundry.

The rice did it.

I blame the rice.

I have always used Minute Rice. Partly because real rice scares me. Partly because I'm lazy. And partly because I want to deprive my children of essential nutrients they need to grow. That's just who I am.

Don't get me wrong. I love the way steamed rice tastes. It is so much more tasty. I just like easy.

Well, my friends convinced me to buy this steamed rice that is so yummy. I know because I tasted it. I gave in and bought some. I decided I would save it for the perfect day. You know, one with plenty of time to make it right. This morning, I decided that day was going to be today. I was going to bring dinner to a friend who recently had a baby and Hawaiian Haystacks was on the menu.

Let me tell you what perfect looked like this morning.

9am: Swim team for Kobe
10:30am: Pedicure w/ friend
1:15pm: "Rio" at the dollar theatre ($0.75 Monday!!)
5pm: Drop off dinner to my friend on my way to work.

What imperfection looked like (aka what really happened).

I came home from my pedicure to find out that I had misunderstood the time of the movie. Instead of 1:15pm it was at 1:50pm. (Say it out loud. They sound almost the same. Oh, wait...I learned about it in an email...cough cough.. ahem.)

No big deal. Plenty of time.

We got there 10 minutes before the movie starts, because you know that on $0.75 Monday nobody goes. Especially now that school is out. Yeah. As you can guess, it was SOLD OUT! No!!!!

There we were, with 7 kids, (I had a friends munchkins with me), all looking like they were going to cry once they heard the news. The next showing was 40 minutes later. And it was 3D. And it was $3.10/ticket.

So of course, we did what any other parent would do. We went to it.

Two hours later, we hot tailed it out of there. Hubs took the kids home while I picked up the last minute things I needed. While in the store, Hubs informed me that he was making the rice. That was fantastic, because I know that it takes longer than a minute to cook.

Only neither of us really know how to cook slow rice. He almost microwaved it but luckily at the last minute he read the instructions. Whew. So instead, he stuck it in a pan and turned it on High.  As in 9 out of 10 High. By the time I caught it, most the water was gone. So I added more water....surely that would help.

I got to chopping veggies. Next thing I know,  Hubs comes in, takes the rice off the burner, and calls it done. I am pretty sure most people don't like their rice crunchy. Back to the stove it went. And I may or may not have added more water.

Things were not looking good. I ran to the cupboard and wouldn't you know, all my Minute Rice was gone. What the......why????? Great. There was no time to start over. There was no time to run and get rice. There was nothing to do but swallow my pride and admit defeat.

Pray for those people, that they will still be my friends. And that they don't chip a tooth. Because if they do...

...I'm blaming the rice!

Look! It's a family! A BIG family!!

I am back. Like really back. As in I'm having a party at my house tomorrow to celebrate my return.

Okay, not really. I am not that vain. But I am having a party. A salad recipe exchange party. Wanna come? Who sets up a party a day and a half after they get home from vacation? I must have had the May haze going on when I suggested that date.

I'm excited about, though. Recipes that you get to taste before you make them. Whoot! 

But that is not what I was wanting to blog about. So why am I? Moving along...

The first day of our trip was surprisingly easy, despite me only sleeping three hours the night before. My kids didn't fight at all! (Liar!). Okay, so they fought a little. But that was to be expected. Oh, yeah and I almost forgot that Briggy got the runs 3 hours into the trip. We had to pull over every 30 minutes for about 2 hours hours, but once the banana made its way through his system, we were good.

After being in the car for 15 hours, with 5 kids, on three hours of sleep, we were so ready to get to the hotel. I checked us in while Hubs unloaded the van and then we all came dragging into the lobby. Okay, so Hubs and I were dragging in. I think a more appropriate description of  my kids would be bouncing. Again, 15 hours in the car.

The people at the front desk just stared at us. (They may have actually been counting because I may or may not have told them there were only 3 children. What? We needed to stay in the same room.) But one guest looked at us, laughed and asked, "What'd you do? Bring the whole preschool? Hahahaha."

He was making a funny.

Funny thing is, I was too tired to come up with a smart remark equal his funny-ness. Only, at that moment, I wasn't feeling funny. Come to think of it, I don't think I could feel anything but tired. I kid you not, every single person we passed on our way to the 4th floor had a comment about our family.

Really?

Have never seen children or just not that many children in one elevator? Yes, they all belong to us. No, we don't run a preschool. And I would rather have my hands full than empty, thankyouverymuch.

See what I'm saying. I was tired. 

And he was rude.

Party anyone?

Re-Post: The Ultimate Diet

We are on a diet in my house. It's called the S'more diet.

"I will have s'more of that."

"Who wants s'more?"

"Put s'more of that on my plate, please."

So in honor of our diet....

Who wants S'more?

Re-post: Remember to Flush

If you want to take a shower, your child will want to come with you.


On the way to your shower, he will find a toy that he simply can't live without.

Once in the bathroom he will play with said toy until he sees the toilet paper.

Seeing the toilet paper will remind him that toilet paper belongs in the toilet, and what a fun game a toilet can be.

He will take the extra roll of toilet paper and throw it into the bowl. He will giggle and giggle.

Giggling will make remind him that he has a toy in the bathroom somewhere.

Playing with the toy will make him giggle some more.

He will glance in the direction of the toilet. Hmmm.

Toy.

Toilet.

If you give a child a toy in the same room as a toilet, he will probably flush the toy down the toilet to see what happens.

Seeing all the water on the ground will cause much freaking out and screaming.

Hearing the child scream will cause you to rinse at the speed of light and exit the shower .

Seeing the water on the floor near the toilet will make you growl inside and cause you to mutter, "Not again."

You will probably throw on some clothes, comfort the child and proceed back into the bathroom to clean up the mess.

Cleaning up the mess will make you wonder, "What the heck did he put in the toilet?"

You will remember that there had been a toy in the child's hand when he entered the bathroom. Ugh!

Because if you give a child a toy,

Chances are....

He'll want a toilet to go with it.

Re-post: Smudges

Smudges.


Evidence that children fill my house. Evidence that most of my time is spent with my children. Making their hands dirty. Evidence that I am a little more casual about cleaning their hands after I spend time with them.

Smudges. All over my sliding glass window.

Evidence that my children love to play in my back yard. On the trampoline. On the swings. In the sandbox. On the grass. In the trees. Occasionally stepping in some of Rufus' love notes. Slipping and sliding. Shooting hoops and riding bikes. Picking greenish tomatoes and blooming flowers.

Smudges on the inside. Smudges on the outside.

I should wipe them off. Most people do. My wonderful mother-in-law almost did once but quickly decided not to because she was afraid my kids might think the door was open and may result in a trip to the Urgent Care. Good call.

Smudges. The marks my children have made on my life.

Smudges on the inside. Smudges on the outside.

Evidence of the impact they have made on my life. Anticipation. Pain. Love. Happiness. Frustration. Excitement. Pride. Embarrassment. Laughter. Complete joy.

Yeah, I know my window is dirty.

But if you will excuse me while I gather a few more smudges on my heart.

So I Married a Deaf Man: The Ticket! (Re-post)

My husband had never gotten a ticket. Not in his whole life. I am not saying that he has never been pulled over, because he has. Plenty of times. But he had never been issued a ticket...until he married me.


It isn't because of his great smile...though he does have a GREAT smile. It isn't because his eyes are to die for. No, no. It isn't because he is a flirt because he SO isn't. It is because he is Deaf. Let me describe what normally happens.

"Vrooom Vrrrroooom." Hubs just speeding along, without a care in the world.

"Weeeeeeeeeeeohhhhhhh." (Lights flashing)

The cop walks up to the window and my husband rolls it down.

"May I see your licence and registration please?" he asks.

My husband points to his ears and shakes his head. (This means "I can't hear" in mime. You're welcome.)

"You can't hear? ummmm okay...uhhhhh...ummmm....hold... hold on, HOLD ON!!" He goes back to his car and returns with a pen and paper in hand.

The officer usually writes something like this, "Too fast. Slow down. Warning."

And that is it.

Seriously.

HIS WHOLE LIFE!

Until he married me. Here is what happened.

Hubs was driving along, we were chatting (signing, whatever.) and suddenly the lights appear behind us. Great! I hate that feeling. So we pull over.

That cop appears at the window, asking for license and registration. Hubs points to his ears and shakes his head, as usual.

"You can't hear? ummmm okay...uhhhhh...ummmm....Hey, do you talk?" he asks me.

Because I have been taught not to lie and to respect policemen who risk their lives everyday to keep the roads safe, I answer "Yes." I proceed to interpret for him while he gives my husband an $80 ticket.

What the heck!! Does he know how much it would have cost him to hire an interpreter? We are talking over $100 because they would need to have special certification and be paid a 2 hour minimum and mileage and an extra after hours/less than 24 hour notice fee?!?!?!!!! He should have been writing me a check before he walked away.

So the next time we were pulled over, my sister, her daughter and my son were in the car with us. I turn to her and I say, "Pretend like you are deaf. Do not say one word. If he asks you something, just pretend you can't hear him."

It worked! NO ticket!! Just "Too fast. Slow down. Warning."

Thank you, Officer!!