Fiancé had been telling the children’s father to take care of the ticket, and he didn’t. And last night he was pulled over for driving 52 in a 35 zone while on his way to pick up the kids from work. When the officer ran his license, he saw the warrant. There are several silver linings that I can see in this mess: Fiancé is now serious about completing his driving time to get his full license. And the children’s father will not be driving anywhere for awhile. [He really shouldn’t be driving at all; he doesn’t see well enough, and he doesn’t think well enough. He nearly broadsided LittleBit and me last November.] And the officer who arrested him did not automatically take Fourthborn and Fiancé’s dog to the pound.
So, prayers please for Fourthborn and Fiancé, neither of whom is on her father’s checking account. They have to figure out what to do about rent next month if he’s still sitting out his warrant. And prayers also for LittleBit, who is probably the only one of the girls with any shred of respect for her father. She’s taking this hard.
At least it’s not his face on the side of a milk carton. We know where he is. And now I can honestly say that I have used the women’s restroom at the jail. Not quite as much fun, somehow, as retrieving LittleBit from the tattoo parlor last fall.
I looked at [Almost] Cozy during my afternoon break yesterday, and all of a sudden it’s getting long. I wish I had thought to take my knitting with me when we went to the jail last night, but I would probably have run out of yarn.
Oh, and happy birthday to ME!
[If you choose to comment on this post, please remember that the girls all read it.]