Due to the fact I came down with some version of whooping cough late Saturday night, spend Sunday and half of Monday in bed, then ruined whatever progress I'd made in making a recovery by going out last night to the company Christmas party (Hey. Free food, no kids, and night out with Ang? Pretty sure I'd need a limb removed to stop me) I spent today alternating between hacking a lung up and apologizing to the customer I was currently infecting with the Swine Flu or whatever it is I've got.
However, last night at the party I learned a few more details about Rakes call to 911 on Saturday.
It came to my attention that in addition to Trot excitedly asking this poor man if HE could go to jail, the following conversation took place....
Trot: "Oooh. What is DAT?"
Cop: "My taser."
Trot: "OOOOOOH. Your TASER? Tan I hold your taser? What it do? Tan I shoot it?"
Cop: "Uh, no. You might hurt yourself."
Trot: "Oh. I might hurt myself? What is DAT?"
Cop: "My gun."
Trot: "OOOOOH. Your DUN? Tan I hold your dun? Pleeeeeease?"
Cop: (Nervously looking at Ang) "Uh, no son. It's dangerous."
Trot: "Why?" (I should interject here that Ang immediately deduced this man didn't have any children as he spent the next 5 minutes calmly trying to explain why Trot couldn't hold a deadly weapon, only to be greeted with "Why?" every 7 seconds.)
Somehow this poor man managed to convince Rakes that while it was serious business to dial 911 he would not be doing any jail time for it, keep his weapons away from Trot, make Ang feel better about the whole thing, and drive away before Trot planted himself in the back seat and wanted to make the siren go.
Again, it's these moments that make me truly grateful I work on Saturday.
Oh yeah; rumor is Theo may ask Pedie to play short stop this year.
Pedie. Short stop.
Sometimes the headline just writes itself.
Rotary 4, Village Bank 2, 14 Inn.
3 minutes ago