Officer Dan had seen a lot of excuses in his 12 years on the highway patrol. But nothing could’ve prepared him for the man currently hyperventilating outside his minivan.
“License and registration, sir,” Dan said, eyeing the packed vehicle. Through the window, he spotted a furious-looking woman in the passenger seat arms crossed, and an older woman in the back dramatically dabbing her eyes with a tissue.
“Officer, before you write that ticket,” the driver whispered, “let me explain. That’s my wife, Sharon. And the woman sobbing in the back? That’s her mother, Linda. She moved in with us three months ago ‘just until she gets back on her feet.’”
Dan nodded sympathetically. He’d met Linda at a neighborhood BBQ last summer. She’d spent 20 minutes explaining why his grill technique was “fundamentally flawed.”
“This morning,” the man continued, voice cracking, “Linda accused Sharon of ‘parenting wrong.’ Sharon said Linda’s meatloaf was ‘why Dad left.’ Next thing I know, Linda’s throwing her suitcase in my car, screaming, ‘Take me home RIGHT NOW!’”
Dan peeked inside. Linda was now dramatically clutching a framed family photo to her chest. Sharon was aggressively texting someone—probably her sister.
“So you were speeding because…?”
“Because they do this EVERY TIME!” the man hissed. “Last month, Linda ‘left for good’ after Sharon hid her crossword puzzle book. They ‘made up’ at a Cracker Barrel, and suddenly Linda’s back on our couch for another six weeks! Officer, I’m 20 minutes from her apartment. If I can just get her keys in that door before Sharon feels guilty—”
A sudden THUNK made them both jump. Linda had kicked the back of Dan’s cruiser. “Are we being detained?! I demand to speak to a supervisor!” she bellowed.
Dan made the fastest decision of his career.
“Sir,” he said, slamming the man’s license into his palm, “follow me.” He flipped on his lights and sirens. “We’re running a Code 3 Divorce—no stops, no apologies, JUST FREEDOM.”
As they peeled onto the highway at 100mph, Dan radioed dispatch: “Requesting backup at Exit 42! We’ve got a 10-55—repeat, a mother-in-law in transport! Do NOT let the wife intercept!”
(Epilogue: Linda’s apartment door clicked shut at 11:37am. By noon, Sharon had texted “Maybe I was too harsh.” The text went unanswered. For three glorious days.)