I see a cop drive by going in the opposite direction. I glance down at the speedometer and notice I am going 5 over the limit. Oops. I lightly tap the break, not wanting to disturb or scare my children. They seem undisturbed, so I sneak a quick peek through the rearview mirror and see the policeman has turned around and is now following me closely.
My heart begins to pound. Am I buckled? Yes. Could a brake light be out? No. I see his lights flash behind me. I anxiously pull my van to the side of the road, feeling my whole body shake with fear.
Why am I so afraid? I wonder. This could all be some funny misunderstanding. It was always my understanding that we were given the grace to go 5 mph over the speed limit.
One policeman walks to my driver window, while the other looks through the back windows at my now VERY restless children.
'Hello!' I say with a grin.
'Ma'am, I need to see your license and proof of insurance please'
'Yes, of course'
I started fishing through my purse while he continued talking.
'You were going 62 in a 50 mph'
I stopped searching. No. I know this road. This can't be right. I did my best to explain to him how he was mistaken and that it was actually 55 mph. But he wouldn't budge. He took my documents and left me and the upset children to sulk in the van alone while he wrote us a ticket.
After we left, I took it upon myself to check the signs. Was my memory fading? Have they changed the speed limit? I had to drive to find out. Sure enough there it was, the big white sign that read 'Speed limit 55.' I knew it. But now I have a ticket to fight. We have the freedom to fight, so here I come.
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| This photo was taken from this website |
