15:30 hours. The doorbell sings its pretty melody. I see brown out the window. At first I shudder because I think it's the UPS guy delivering one of my many online purchases. Why shudder? Because my husband's home and I don't feel like hearing the huffing about what I bought.
No, it was NOT UPS. It was someone else in brown. Someone with a badge. I open the door to be greeted by a deputy asking "Is everything alright here?"
"Yes, why?" I ask.
"We had a 911 call."
Huh, read the end of paragraph 1. Yes, my husband is home. Why yes, he is downstairs "WATCHING" the kids. Maybe he tied them up and they're calling for help. I can hope.
Not so lucky. I call the brood to the door. The Princess immediately says Cookie Monster called. Yeah right, why do you look like you're ready to cry, little girl in pink? I have the deputy explain to them why it's not so funny to call 911. After he leaves, we talk about how they speed to get out here (remember our blog title: Crazy in the Country), how others actually could use their help at that time, how God doesn't like when we lie.....
I continue to quiz her. I even told her she doesn't lie really well. The tears start to fall. Still, the mystery remains. Who called while dad was sitting next to them on the couch?
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