365 Project - Day THIRTY SEVEN

First off - biopsy results tested as benign. I'll need to follow up in 6 months for a repeat mammogram. I'm so relieved. It's been a maniacal few weeks and suddenly my brain can relax. I can relax. I can sleep and think about my future again. I have many plans and now I can get on with them.

Now to our featured story:



What's this? Police activity on my street? Suspects apprehended?

Yep. And my daughter had a hand in it. She's CSI.

There was a little fender-bender between a car full of high school kids and an older gentleman coming down the road. Basically it was the kids' failure to yield that got them in the accident. I heard the accident and went out there to make sure everyone was OK. I took my phone just in case, but there were to old farts talking about tools in the garage on the other corner who called the police first.

When the kids piled out, there was a boy that exclaimed his intense need for a cigarette at that point and he casually strolled across the street and sat at the edge of my yard. I presumed at the time that he was pretty shaken and needed a breather. He got out his smokes, lit one up, put his backpack back together and then came back to 'the scene'. Soon after, the police officer showed-up to sort things out.

Enter Mazie.

Mazie came out of the front door, went over to the van and got her little hoodie out. I was standing on the corner helping cars that were coming down the road. I was the eyes around the corner. Mazie then came over to me from within the yard and said, "Mom, what's this?". She pointed at a black pouch that had ended-up in our St. John's Wort. I glanced over at it and instantly knew that pouch was the reason that boy was sitting at the edge of my yard earlier. I told Mazie to go back into the house.

When I had the chance, I went over the to police officer, who was just wrapping up with the kids, and quietly explained that my daughter watched the boy lob the pouch into our bushes. The police officer then got back out of his car and approached the boy. I then saw them come over to my yard together and grab the pouch. I strained to hear the conversation, but all I heard was, "Pipe?", "Yeah". Next thing I knew, the boy was in handcuffs. The officer then put the two girls in handcuffs. Then all the kids' parents showed up. The officer uncuffed them one by one after some interrogation and searching of purses and backpacks. One of the girls walked down the road, rivers of mascara rolling down her face, with her father and brother behind her.

I instantly felt bad. Did I really need to tell the police officer that? Obviously, it was something worth hiding or the boy wouldn't have gone through the oscar-worthy performance to conceal it. My first thought was my kids - what if they had found it and opened it? Had Mazie not seen the boy pitch the pouch, we would have never seen it and they would've come back later for it - no harm, no foul?

But, I felt in the interest of setting an example, I needed to show Mazie the right thing to do. What I really felt was like a putzy old lady. Telling on a bunch of teenagers. It makes you wonder if those kids will be pissed and come back to do something to our home, cars, etc...

All I know is, the chain of events completely ruined their night.

And now a word from my chingu...