The Messed Up Bust

     A couple of months ago, Barbara and I were minding a couple of the grand kids for a few days. We had all just been to daughter in law Christi's birthday dinner at US Pizza, and on the way home, we all were to stop at an ice cream hotspot for a bit of dessert. Well, as is often typical of me in a big city, I couldn't find that hotspot, so we just pulled over at McDonald's, so that the grand kids would not be disappointed too much, to get some ice cream. Barbara was ordering, and I herded the grand boys back to a booth, and stood guard, to keep them hemmed in there. That usually helps keep down the ruckus some, although Jackson had already crawled under the booth and sat beside, and made "friends" with, a tolerant lady sitting near by.

      I took my eye off the boys for a moment, and saw that a young man had come in, and had approached Barbara. I strained to hear what was going on. He pointed toward our car, out front, and I heard Barbara ask, "Did you hit my car?" He was shaking his head no, But I could tell he was asking her something, and in spite of the fact that she was cool and smiling, as always, she was getting nervous. I threatened the boys about staying put, and headed that way. By the time I got close to the action, another young man was there, and I heard enough of the conversation to tell they both were telling her they wanted her to go outside with them. When I neared this conversation, Barbara was telling them, "You need to talk to my husband about that," and they just looked at each other, and one said, "Husband?" Then I kicked in with, "What's going on here?" in my gruff voice. They then started saying, they wanted us both to go outside with them. Barbara said, "But We've got grandchildren in here!" Then they really looked puzzled, looked at each other a second, and said, "Grandchildren?" I had not been privy to the fact that they both had flashed their police badges at her, that were on a string around their necks, hidden under their coats. The last guy to show up started quizzing Barbara about where we lived, where we had been, etc. And I was just starting to say, "What business is that of yours?" which would likely have gotten me slammed to the floor and handcuffed, had I had time to complete it. But the last guy changed his tack, and said, "Both of you stay right here, don't leave, we're going outside now, and we'll come back."

As they left, I asked Barbara, and all the McDonald's staff, who had gathered around by now, "Who the heck were those guys?" Seems I was the only one who didn't know by now, and Barbara and the McDonald's staff all chimed in at once with, "The Police!" I turned a little pale.

      In about 5 minutes, one of them came back in, all smiles now, and explained. "We have been following that truck out there, and a car just like yours with a woman in it, for thirteen hours. Somehow, that HHR must have crossed paths with yours, and we got onto the wrong car." He left, and we ate our ice cream with the boys, and apologized to all the people around us that Jackson had been talking to relentlessly while we were distracted from doing our grand parental duty for a while. They understood, and a McDonald's employee brought out a whole armload of toys for the boys. When we pulled out of the parking lot, those undercover guys had the people in the truck handcuffed, and were tearing apart their truck. Jordan and Jackson thought that was just about their coolest trip to McDonald's ever, but Barbara and I just wanted to get home.