Monday, May 14, 2007
No wonder the roads are all messed up
When we were at Creating Keepsakes University, we were appalled by the state of the roads in Dearborn, MI. If you are at all familiar with the road system in Detroit, you understand what I mean.
When we first arrived on that Wednesday night, we did one of those European Vacation things ... driving around in a large circle around the hotel. Look kids, Big Ben... Parliament. Look kids, its the Hyatt .... now HOW do we get over there?
And the Michigan left hander. Whatever. Seriously. Now I see why Michigan drivers have such a bad reputation as being extremely fast drivers when they get into Ohio. You know why? Because ... the roads make sense.
So this morning, my local AM station played a blurb of a 911 call from a Dearborn police officer. Heard about this?
Apparently, the Dearborn police department let this officer resign without being charged of a drug crime when he called 911 and told the operator this:
I think I can understand the road systems better now...
"I think we're dying," he said in the 5-minute tape, obtained under the Michigan Freedom of Information Act. "We made brownies and I think we're dead, I really do," Sanchez continued. He told the dispatcher he had never made marijuana brownies before, but had previously used marijuana.
I'm a mom of three peeps ... Queen Bee, The Door Man, and the Chandelier Monkey, and wife to Ace, the Helpful Hardware Man. I created this space to get away from the people known as my inlaws, and because life with three kids and a hubby is all Unexplored Territory.
The nine-year-old who seems to be growing older every minute, has an opinion and a comment for everything, and has a true servant's heart.
The seven-year-old who loves the organization of things, will someday be someone's therapist because of his kind soul, and will more than likely be living with us until he is 40 years old.
The five-year-old with the 13-year-old attitude, who has a dictator's personality, asks you to watch her all the time and say "hold on" to keep your attention, and will someday come home on the back of some dude's motorcycle with 10 tatts and a body piercing or two.
The man of the house, the fixer of things, the winner of prizes, and the only person in his family to escape the South.
Good morning, Starshine! The earth says hello!
They say its his birthday
and another thing...
Fog Throws a Cog in the Works
Guess what I missed last night?
Something has to give
Don't you take that tone with me!
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