The Fabry Family
Connect with Me
Featured Books
New Release!
Personal Stuff
- Chris Fabry
- Married to Andrea since 1982. We have 9 children together and none apart. Our dog's name is Tebow.
Connect with Andrea
Where We Are Now
After finding and remediating mold twice in our Colorado home, we abandoned ship in October 2008. Because of the high levels of exposure, our entire family was affected. After months of seeing different specialists for all of the problems, we came to Arizona to begin comprehensive treatment to rid our bodies of the toxic buildup. In August 2009 we moved into a larger home, four bedrooms, south of Tucson, north of Mexico. I am doing my daily radio program/ writing from that location. Thanks for praying for us. We really feel it.
My Blog List
-
-
-
Client List3 years ago
Search This Blog
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
The car in front of us was going the speed limit. My daughter had her earphones in. She glanced at the clock.
“Can you pass him?”
Deadpan. As if she had the power to move heaven and earth.
I glanced at her. Not too long. I might have swerved. I glanced back at the road and the sheriff’s car pulling out and going the other direction.
“You want to pay for the ticket?” I said.
She stared ahead and sighed.
“Drive the speed limit and you’ll never have to worry if you have enough money to pay a ticket,” I said.
We pulled up to the school one minute before the bell rang. I waved and told the kids to have a good day. I had taught such a great lesson to my daughter, I thought.
I had to run a couple of errands, make a phone call, do busy work. As I headed home the clock felt like it was slipping away. Not enough hours in the day.
About halfway home I noticed a car behind me, pretty far behind but zooming. Lights on top of the car. My stomach clenched. I looked down at the speedometer and let off the gas slightly. I wasn’t going that far over the limit, but I was over.
I knew the officers were out today. I knew it. I saw it. I told my daughter about it. And here was the nice officer in the car right on my tail. Numbers began turning in my head. How much would this cost?
He followed me for a while. An unnervingly long time. I came to a turning area I figured this would be the place where he’d hit the lights and pull me over. I was prepared for it.
But he just kept following. Maybe he was running my plates. Did I remember to renew my registration? I wanted to stop and hold my hands up. "I give up! I was going 5 mph over! Please, take me in now!"
I gave my turn signal at a big cross street. He gave his turn signal. Maybe I had committed some crime I couldn’t remember and he was going to nab me. Shoplifting? Nothing I can remember. I didn't put my cart back once at Target and still feel guilty. Maybe it had run over someone.
I gave my turn signal again and slowed. I turned and he gunned his engine and raced past me. Sigh.
What I told my daughter earlier was true. For both of us.
“Can you pass him?”
Deadpan. As if she had the power to move heaven and earth.
I glanced at her. Not too long. I might have swerved. I glanced back at the road and the sheriff’s car pulling out and going the other direction.
“You want to pay for the ticket?” I said.
She stared ahead and sighed.
“Drive the speed limit and you’ll never have to worry if you have enough money to pay a ticket,” I said.
We pulled up to the school one minute before the bell rang. I waved and told the kids to have a good day. I had taught such a great lesson to my daughter, I thought.
I had to run a couple of errands, make a phone call, do busy work. As I headed home the clock felt like it was slipping away. Not enough hours in the day.
About halfway home I noticed a car behind me, pretty far behind but zooming. Lights on top of the car. My stomach clenched. I looked down at the speedometer and let off the gas slightly. I wasn’t going that far over the limit, but I was over.
I knew the officers were out today. I knew it. I saw it. I told my daughter about it. And here was the nice officer in the car right on my tail. Numbers began turning in my head. How much would this cost?
He followed me for a while. An unnervingly long time. I came to a turning area I figured this would be the place where he’d hit the lights and pull me over. I was prepared for it.
But he just kept following. Maybe he was running my plates. Did I remember to renew my registration? I wanted to stop and hold my hands up. "I give up! I was going 5 mph over! Please, take me in now!"
I gave my turn signal at a big cross street. He gave his turn signal. Maybe I had committed some crime I couldn’t remember and he was going to nab me. Shoplifting? Nothing I can remember. I didn't put my cart back once at Target and still feel guilty. Maybe it had run over someone.
I gave my turn signal again and slowed. I turned and he gunned his engine and raced past me. Sigh.
What I told my daughter earlier was true. For both of us.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comments:
That happened to me a week or so ago. New York State Trooper parked at the side of a major highway where the speed limit is 45, but everybody likes to go 60. When I passed his hiding spot, he pulled out and followed me for about 5 miles, including right into the grocery store parking lot. When I saw him picking up some sweet peppers in the produce aisle, I briefly considered accidentally bumping him with my cart to repay for those five miles of agony... but I behaved!