Stories From My Childhood, Part Deux

When I was a small child, I did not like to be restrained. Especially not in a moving vehicle. I would unbuckle my restraint and move about the car. My mom tried multiple tactics to convince me to stay in my seat, and the one that seemed to stick the best was her telling me that if the police caught me out of my seat, they'd think she was a bad mommy and they'd take me away from her.

One day, I had unbuckled myself and was scooting around in the backseat of the car. My mom was yelling at me to sit down and get buckled in, and I was having fun ignoring her.

Suddenly, red and blue flashing light erupted from behind. The coppers!

We weren't being pulled over because I was running around without a seatbelt on; my mom had been speeding. That's what my mom does.

She pulled over, and the (black, or African-American for you PC dorks) cop pulled up behind us. When I had realized that there was a cop behind us, I had thought, of course, that he was there because I didn't have my seatbelt on. I had sat down and buckled in as quickly as possible, but it seemed he was still going to take me away.

The cop approached the driver's side window and asked for license and registration. My mom got the registration out of the glove box and explained that her license was in her wallet, which was in her purse, which was in the trunk of the car. She got out of the car, and she and the policeman moved toward the rear of the vehicle to retrieve the license.

Well, it occurred to me at that moment that my mom was clearly unable to prevent the cop from taking me away. So I decided to take matters into my own hands. As soon as her door shut, I unbuckled, jumped into the driver's seat, and locked all of the doors.

They realized the doors were all locked when they tried to open the trunk and were unable. My mom thought she hadn't unlocked it and went back to do so. She found me in the driver's seat, doors locked, windows up, bawling as hard as I could and screaming:

"DON'T LET HIM GET ME! DON'T LET HIM TAKE ME AWAY!"

My mom then had to spend several minutes explaining to the black cop that I wasn't freaking out because he was black, but rather because she had told me the cops would take me away if I didn't wear my seatbelt.

My hysterics had awoken Harper, who was still a little baby and in her carseat, and she had started crying. My mom was locked out of her car with two screaming kids inside, one of whom was convinced that the police were there to take her away.

I don't know if the cop believed my mom when she said she wasn't racist and wasn't teaching her daughters that black people apparently kidnap white children (we all know black people don't do that; gypsies do). But I think her predicament seemed like punishment enough, because he agreed to leave so I would unlock the car. I don't think she got a speeding ticket. But I bet that cop still remembers the crazy little possibly-racist white kid who locked her mom out of the car during a routine traffic stop.