ok.
so i was reading
this,
which prompted this memory...
about six years ago, my husband
was late getting home from work
and i was getting worried and frustrated
and annoyed and all those good things...
a little late turned into a lot late
with no phone call and i was starting to get
really worried/agitated...
i put the kids to bed (they were about one and four, or so)
and called 411 (which is the information here)
to find the number of a friend of my husband...
the conversation went like this:
them: 911 please state your emergency
me: yeah, i'm looking for a number for blah blah
them: 911 please state your emergency
me: right... i need a number for blah blah blah
them: (much more insistent) 911 please. state. your. emergency.
(pause as i digest this new and vital information)
me: oh my god...oh jeez...oh my god...oh no...oh god etc
them: 911 please state your EMERGENCY
me: god, no. i meant to dial 411, i dialed this by accident, i'm
such an idiot, blah blah blah
them: not a problem, what is your address?
me: my address?
them: your address.
me: blah blah blah street.
them: the police will be there momentarily
me: but...but...but...they're still coming?
them: they have to
so.
about 10 to 15 minutes later, a police van pulls up to my house
and two cops come out in what can only be described in my
heightened sense of exxageration as full riot gear.
(just so you can get the full effect, imagine the house
in pitch black, which it was, and me holding our
barking snarling mongrel of a dog back, because i
was)
the cops come in and ask if everything is ok...
i try to explain how i made a mistake, everything is fine,
blah blah blah...
they ask if i am alone.
i say yes.
meanwhile seven (one at the time) starts
calling "mom! mom!"
the cops look puzzled, "i thought you said you were alone"
"yeah, i wasn't counting the kids as people"
sidenote: could i have said anything STUPIDER at that point?so the cops nod slowly and look at each other
and seven-then-one takes this opportune moment
to yell "help, mom! help! help!"
at this point, i feel utterly defeated.
the cops look at me questioningly
and i try to explain that he yells that when
he wants out of the crib, he can't get out on his
own, hence the fact that he yells "
help"
they ask if they can go check and make sure...
to which i shake my head yes with so much
enthusiasm and vigor that i make myself
just a little dizzy...
he checks on the kids, they are fine.
i am fine. we are all fine.
except my husband, who had too much to drink
and forgot to phone home....things were not
"fine" again for him for some time after.
heh.
and that is my 911 story.
