As we ran some errands today, the Sunday drivers and general weekend road congestion began to grind on my nerves. Stopped at a light I considered our usual route, and since the thought of the stop and go traffic at a certain point was almost too much to bear, I decided to take another, hopefully less traveled, way. Not so far from home, we remembered another stop we had to make, and my mental GPS was recalculating when Heidi said, "That was a stop sign back there."
"Not for me," I laughed just before the whoop whoop and flashing blue and red pulled behind me.
"I'm sorry I missed that Stop sign back there," I told the cop when he walked up.
"How did that happen?" he asked. I don't think either of us was prepared for the long rambling explanation I provided about the confusing placement of the sign as well as what I was thinking at the time of the infraction, but hey, he asked. He shook his head and took my license and registration back to his cruiser. In a little while he returned with the dreaded clipboard. "I ran your information," he said, "You have five points on your record."
"How did I get those?" I asked. "What did I do?"
"It's five positive points," he told me with raised eyebrows. "That's good. Are you sure you're all right to drive?"
Clearly I am with all those points, I thought, but I actually said, "Yes. I promise I'll be more attentive."
"Then get out of here," he waved his hand, "No ticket today."