Ever since we walked away from school-school I have wondered when, who, & how, not if, this would happen... 9 am on a school day Boo and I are out front using sidewalk chalk to play spelling word Boggle with her temperature related spelling words. A city police car drives slowly past, like the lone officer inside is looking for something. He stops just beyond the edge of our property flips a U turn pulling over in front of my driveway. With his window down he motions for me to come over to him.
Despite being a 39 year old mother of 4, I look like a skater. I am wearing ripped up skinny jeans, black gym shoes, a black & grey t shirt silk-screened by a local street artist (aka a tagger), and a glorified ball hat. My hair is that perfect mess of waxy curls I hate and yet how to get them is all over Pinterest, it does nothing to aid my credibility. He is very friendly offers me a big smile, “Is that your little girl?” Boo is too busy working to notice what is going on.
“Yes Sir, she is.” I can tell he has no idea how old I am.
“Isn’t she supposed to be in school?” And he is only guessing, a bit unsure about how old Boo is. He seems more curious than official.
“Yes Sir, and she is. We home school her.” He nods, sort of chuckling. “Yeah, I thought she was skipping school.” But it wasn’t a ‘I was mistaken’ sort of comment it was a statement ‘your child is skipping school but I can't do anything about it.’ He nods again, “Thank you and you have a nice day.” And he drives slowly off.
Perhaps now would be a good time to file that paperwork with the state…3 years later.
First time I wear skinny jeans and I get questioned by the police, it’s defiantly something to keep in mind.