Getting a call at 4:30 AM on a Sunday morning might be the scariest thing that happens to me. I HATE when the phone rings in the middle of the night. I am almost always certain that someone is dead. Yuck.
Last Sunday morning, Bob's cell phone was ringing at just that time. It was a police officer, and he was calling to tell us that he was outside our front door. Worst call ever.
Bob got out of bed and was going to the door in his undies. Luckily, I stopped him. What the hell? Anyhow, I grabbed my robe and went to the door. The officer was standing there alone. He said he had my son in the back of his car. Perfect.
Apparently, my boy and his buddy decided to walk around in the middle of the night. They had snuck out of the house while his buddy's grandma was asleep, and went on a ten minute adventure. They went across the highway, and were spotted by the cops.
Instead of stopping to talk to the police, my boy ran. He and his friend ran away from the cops for a good five minutes. The police officer caught my boy, roughly by the way, and put him in the back of the car. His buddy got away. The officer delivered him to me.
I was glad he got caught, and scared by the cops. I remember doing that when I was a kid. The freedom of walking the streets when everyone is asleep is exciting. I totally get it. But guess what? Not allowed by law.
Today, he and I will go to the family service office in our town to meet with a MN youth diversion program person. He will possibly get community service for this offense. I hope it is the grossest, yuckiest, nastiest form of community service they have. Like picking up horse poop with his bare hands or something.
I told my family that this is the one and only free pass for police trouble. The next on will result in our video games and systems, all of them (we have TONS because of Bob and I'll get to that another day) being donated to some other family. I dared them to try.
Also, this kid wants to be a United States Marine and has since he knew what one was (I will push Coast Guard.) It is hard to get into the Marines with a record. At least it used to be. Let's hope this was the last of that behavior.
The boy has EIGHT hours of community service. He is too young (of course) to do most of what they offer, and we will have to go with him. So him and his father will be spending time at the local food shelf. I am so glad.