I’m driving along, minding my own business, when the cell phone I’ve stashed on the passenger front seat rings. I’ve forgotten my hands-free thing-a-majig and know I shouldn’t answer it. But a furtive glance at the LCD display shows it’s my female-offspring-who-shall-remain-nameless calling, and the last time I let a call from one of my kids go to voice mail, it was my college Freshman checking in to say hi and oh by the way, they admitted him to the health center with a temperature of 101.
So, against my better judgment, I answered it, just as I was approaching a bridge.
HER: “Hi, Mom. Listen–“
ME: “Oh my God, are you alright? I can’t talk now, I’m in the car–”
HER: “Yeah, I’m fine. Listen, I wanted–“
ME: “I can’t talk now! I'm hanging up! I’m in the car and I’m coming up to a tollbooth–“
HER: “Wait, there was something important I had to ask you. I just can’t remember what–“
ME: “Oh my God, a policeman is stopping me at the tollbooth.” (I drop the phone in my lap.)
HIM: “M’am, I saw you talking on the phone and I should give you a ticket.”
ME: “I KNOW. You are so right, Officer, and it’s all my daughter’s fault. She called me and I TOLD her I couldn’t talk and well, you know how your kids can be sometimes and–“
HIM: “Yeah, well–“
ME: “As long you’re here, Officer, could you please talk to her 'cause she won't listen to me and tell her–“ (I try to hand him the phone.)
HIM: “Um, that’s okay M’am. You try and have a nice day.”
The nice police officer must have his own female offspring at home because he took pity on me, and waved (some would say shooed) me off with a verbal warning. My defense? Driving while-distracted-by-daughter. Feel free to try it sometime. It worked for me.
PS: What getting-out-of-a-ticket talk worked for you?