Reunion

Tell me, what is better than a passel of family members (probably about 50-60) sitting around outside on a blistery hot day eating chicken tenders, chips, homemade ice cream and sweet tea while fighting of the flies, yellow jackets and trying to keep the table clothes on the picnic tables without them blowing away and taking all the yummy ice cream with them??

Well, I can think of a few things that are better.

Can we say Dentist??

Just kidding. It really isn’t that bad. I type today from Sunny North Carolina, about eight hours from my home south of Nashville TN. We are attending the Davis family reunion, hosted at the home of my in-laws. We arrived about 1:00 in the morning (midnight our time) so we made pretty good time. (I drove through the mountains…. WOOHOO! Steep downhill interstate with long winding curves and me at the wheel. Now THAT was worth the trip! I so should be in NASCAR.)

Funny story about that. (I realize I am getting off the family reunion theme, but well, I’ll have more to say about that tomorrow after the event actually occurs.)

Little backstory first. A few years ago my husband got his first speeding trip on our trip back home from North Carolina. He was speeding about 5-10 miles over the speed limit, and this red sports car comes speeding up to him behind. He speeds up, nervous it is going to hit him. Moments later, the red car morphes into a police car, lights flashing. He gets a whopping ticket as he was then going 18 MPH over the limit.

It was not a happy day.

So, yesterday, I was speeding happily down the mountain, taking the curves at a fun speed (everyone else was sleeping and I gotta get my fun somehow…). I was only going 80 (when I was paying attention…), but it was still speeding. I noticed that the guy behind me seemed to be tailing me pretty good. I let him for a while, then decided to be mean and slow down. I also had the memory of the cop with Scott in my head. Sure enough, moments after adjusting my speed a sheriff patrol car speed around me and off into the sunset. (well, the sun had already set so it was dark, but I could still see him ahead of me that he was a police car).

I felt smart. I felt victorious. I had beat the mean ole policeman. Now, I don’t believe that policemen are mean. I honor them and thank them for their contribution to society, for putting their life in danger to come to our protection and arrest bad guys. But I do think there are probably more important things to do than following a green mini-van going a whole 10 mph over the speedlimit and trying to make them speed just so they can stop me and write a big ole ticket to me.

Isn’t there a bad guy somewhere that needs arresting? Aren’t there drugs being sold that need to be stopped? Isn’t there a child out there about to be kidnapped??

I am not a speeder. Well, I do have lead foot, and I like to talk big, but 10 mph over is about as dare-devil as I am!