Just one step on the right side of the law...

A peek into a night at the Gregg house…

While John and I ate dinner last night, Maren danced around the table and did one of her favorite things – played with John’s cell phone (she had already eaten). At first, she was just holding it up to her ear and “talking,” and then, she started pushing buttons on the phone. Every minute or so one of us would grab it and close the phone so that no calls connected. John thought it would be funny to call the cell and watch her since she dances when it rings (ring tone is the old “Batman” TV show theme song), so he called her using our house phone, but kept saying things to me (doing dishes at this point) like, “My phone isn’t working, I’m dialing and it’s not ringing.” and “What’s my number again? I never call myself.” I tell him his number and keep washing.

Suddenly, a knock at the door…and John says, loudly, “If it’s someone selling something, I’m going to shoot them.” (We have no guns, but are constantly bombarded with kids selling candy bars and raffle tickets and people trying to sell us new windows.) I hear mumbled conversation at the door and the next thing I know, there is a GR Police Officer in our kitchen! Apparently, SOMEONE at our house had called 911. I am horrified and we are both apologizing profusely, immediately blaming the baby for playing with John’s phone…although the officer pointed out that the call must have come from a landline. We again blame the baby. The officer was very nice, said he had a young daughter himself, but that they had to come and check it out. He takes John’s name and date of birth for paperwork and we follow him to the door…where we see two cruisers in the street (only a week ago the first GR Police Officer in 21 years was shot and killed investigating a domestic disturbance, so the police are all on edge). AAAHHHH.

We could not be more white trash at this point (also, Maren is wearing a pajama top and diaper – no bottoms, I’m wearing a D4G polo shirt with my “garden shorts” and John is in scrub top and old shorts…we might as well be in a trailer…there are toys everywhere and the house is not very clean). They’ve sent two cruisers to check out the situation and the guy who came into the house is obviously wearing body armor under his shirt. TOTALLY embarrassing. The neighbors are probably going to kick us out of the hood.

So…after they leave we discuss the calls…and John realizes that HE must have called 911 while trying to use our home phone to call his cell (which starts 91). I tell him that he has made Maren his accomplice at 18 months old.

If I don’t show up for work one day, you will know that our entire family is in jail.