I’ve been on a bit of a bloggy break. (This is the part where you say “Duh! You haven’t posted since, like, December the 9th!” Apparently you will say this like a Valley Girl from the 80s. Own it.)
I’ve also been on an e-mail break and a Pinterest break and a Facebook break and a Google Reader break.
It’s been delicious.
My hubby got a super fabulous week off between Christmas & New Year’s, so we spent the time driving to Louisiana and then the Promised Land to see family. Oh, yes, I speak of Texas. The sad thing is that I hadn’t been to my home town since Christmas 2010. A whole. Stinking. Year. That’s too long. I got to go to Dallas in October and I’ve seen my family through the year, but it’s just not the same to miss out on Casa Ole (all time fave restaurant…. when I was little we went there so much the waiters knew us) & on all of the familiar sights.
Bean & I went to Wal-Mart on one day. First of all, it was nice to go to Wal-Mart in a part of the country that calls it Wal-Mart or Wally World, but never ever ever ever unless they’re making fun of people in other parts of the country do they call it The Wal-Marts. When we finished our shopping, we left the parking lot & I saw that the major road was pretty busy. So, on a whim, I decided to take a back way through the neighborhoods. This way, I could drive Bean by the house I grew up in.
We slowly cruised the street & she asked where my friends had lived. So, I’d periodically drop to about 10 mph to show her. This is a suburban street & no one would be in that neighborhood unless they lived there. There were no other cars in sight, so I wasn’t holding up traffic. Well, I got to my house & we stopped. I pointed out which window was mine. Then, we cruised to the end of the street reeeeeeally slowly while I pointed out all of the houses where my little friends had lived so many eons ago. At the end of the street, you have to turn and as I did, I noticed a police car sitting there. The officer inside was watching me intently. I waved, smiled, and drove on.
I thought it was a very odd place for a cop to take a break. The neighborhood was a very quiet one when I lived there. Now, a major road runs through my former backyard (and my sandbox!!!) and my parents moved because of it. The neighborhood is a bit less quiet, but still very quiet & respectable. Why would a cop be chilling there?
Today my brother & mom called to tell me why. He was staking out a house. One of the houses that I crept by slowly and pointed at while telling animated stories to my child. And we were in full view of the officer. Apparently it’s the home of some dude known as The Handsome Guy Bandit. I would like to applaud the police officers responsible for coming up with this very very clever nickname. He’s robbed about 6 banks in the Dallas area. We live about 2 hours from the crimes, so I guess Mr. Handsome thought he was safe.
But the police found him. And they were watching him. And waiting for him to come home. All sneaky-like…. In plain sight. In broad daylight. I don’t know about you, but if I was an accomplished bank robber, I think I would just not come home.
Dear Police Officer Man,
I know you saw me sloooooow down and point at the house where Mr. Handsome Bank Robber Guy lives, but I don’t know him. When was growing up in that quiet & quaint neighborhood a girl I went to school with lived in that home. It might be a stretch to call her a friend since she thought I was a complete and total dork, so I’ll just call her an acquaintance & her home my acquaintance’s house. However, the intricacies of middle school social strata and the perils of unpopularity are too much for my 4 year old to understand. So, I was just calling it “my friend’s house.” Please know that I am referring to the aforementioned acquaintance and not the Handsome Guy Bandit. Although, if he were to share some of his loot with me, I would call him a friend as well. And then I’d call you to come put my friend in jail.
Thank you very much for not chasing me down and dragging me out of the car and asking me questions.
What, dear reader? What did you say? You don’t think I was really ever in danger of the police officer pulling me over for questioning? Pshaw! Although I didn’t know that the officer was there on a stakeout, some part of me must have known I was in some type of danger for I felt myself inexplicably drawn to Dairy Queen for a therapeutic Chocolate Xtreme Blizzard immediately after this incident.
Now, for those of you who want to know more about this bank robber dude, here’s some linkies:
And in true mab fashion, I won’t make any New Year’s Resolutions, but I will make a Gosh-Darn-It-I’ve-Neglected-My-Blog-Long-Enough Promise…. It won’t be a month before I write some sort of piffle again.