The Criminal

Yes, that's me--I'm a violator of the law of the land. About three weeks ago, I was driving Spencer to his haircut appointment when I saw the flashing lights behind me. Apparently the hill I was descending has a speed limit of 30 mph, and I was doing 42. In other words, I fell into a speed trap. So I appeared in court today with the rest of the local felons to plead my cause and beg for traffic school. We all sat in our own row. The room was dead silent. I sat there with the druggies and the drunks, clutching my flowered purse and hoping it would be over soon. The judge was totally stereotypical, too. He was an older guy, balding, with the dark-rimmed, rectangular specs. He had a grouchy look, a gruff voice, and hardly looked at anyone. He asked how I was, and for just a second I considered divulging that I felt like a real criminal, but I decided he wasn't the type to indulge any kind of joviality. So I took care of my business and hurried out of there. I'll be completing my traffic school in about a month. I plan to do something fun afterward so it doesn't seem like a complete bummer of a day. I don't have a mug shot to put on this post--sorry to disappoint. Maybe next time....