police

The Rest of the Story

So, yeah, I had the police out here last night.  It’s really not a very exciting story, but I was pretty rattled (and, if I stop to think about it, still am, because it just doesn’t add up).  Anyway, it’s the first time I’ve ever had to call the police to my home, and the whole time he was in here, all I could think was “that’s the first time there’s ever been a loaded gun in my house!”

It started with a phone call on our land line.  When I answered, there was a recorded voice telling me I had a collect call, press one to accept charges, blah, blah.  But behind the recording (if you’ve ever made a collect call, you know that you can talk while the message is playing, and the person on the other end will hear you), was some very colorful language, which I won’t repeat here, in a rather angry male voice.  I didn’t respond at all, just hung up, even though I was rather startled and upset.

Almost immediately after I hung up, I could hear my cell phone upstairs ringing.  At first I didn’t think anything of it, but it seemed rather coincidental that it would begin ringing so soon after me hanging up on what I was really hoping was a prank call, so I went to check on it.  No message or anything, but the number listed was a local number.  Now, I know that doesn’t *sound* strange, but here’s the thing:  my cell is a non-local number.  Sure, I occasionally get wrong numbers/solicitations from it’s originating area code, but I’ve never received a call from a number local to my home.  I don’t give my cell number out.  Ever.  To be honest, I don’t even know the number.  So I couldn’t think of anyone that would be trying to reach me, and as I let my imagination wander, I started getting a little nervous.  Not too bad, but Ryan had been out of town on business, and wasn’t scheduled to get home for a few more hours, so I was a little uncomfortable.

After pondering all the worst-case-scenarios I could come up with, I finally called him on his cell about an hour later.  And that’s when I got really nervous.  Because at around the same time I had received the two mystery calls (remember, I don’t have caller I.D. at home, so I had no proof that the calls were related), he also received a collect call from the same number on his cell phone.  So someone has managed to get our home phone number, and our two out-of-town cell phone numbers, that aren’t even listed under our names, and one of which is never, ever given out.  So, Ryan told me to call the non-emergency number at our police station, and see what they thought of it.

They must have thought it was strange enough, because they sent someone out right away (the children loved that–that’s two visits with the police in two consecutive weeks!).  He was very nice, and also very puzzled.  He called the number that came up on our cells, and the kid (?) that he spoke with said no one called from that number, which was obviously untrue.  The officer was pretty satisfied, though, that the person he spoke to was being honest (he thought maybe someone else at the home could have used the phone, and this kid, who was supposed to be in charge until mom got home didn’t know about it), and after letting him know that our phone was being tapped should anyone try to call again, and that if anyone did call complaints would be filed and jail time handed out, hung up and said that’s all he could do for now.  

They do have extra patrols coming around, just to monitor things, but the officer really wasn’t concerned–he was very confused, though, as am I.  The likelihood of anyone putting all three numbers together seems pretty remote, unless they were looking for us for a reason.  I do have one theory, which still has some holes, but if anyone else would like to theorize as to how that happened, I’d love to hear it.

Why does stuff like this only happen when Ryan is out of town?  I sure was glad when he pulled in last night!

Cars Go Crunch

That’s what Turkey tells me, anyway!

On the way to Wal-Mart last night, we had a little accident.  When we were turning right, the lady behind us apparently didn’t check to make sure we had pulled onto the road and/or that we were accelerating at the rate she wanted to go…anyway, she turned, too, and rammed right into the back of our car.

Everyone is fine, not even a peep out of the children.  I really think they were so confused, they had no idea what had happened.  Turkey and Bunny did demonstrate that they actually have been listening to me, and remembered that you call “911” in an emergency to get help from a policeman (of course, neither Ryan or I had our cell phones on us at the time, so they didn’t get to witness us making a call to the police). They were a little disappointed that the officer did not come with lights blazing and sirens blaring, but they were ecstatic that he took a moment to say “hello” to them.

Speaking of confused, I also had no idea what had happened.  I have never been in any kind of a fender bender before, so I heard the “crunch” and felt a jolt, but I couldn’t process what it was.  My first thought was a tire-blow out, because it felt like only one side of the car was affected (which was basically true, based on where she hit us), but I figured Ryan wouldn’t be that peeved about a tire–he does have some experience in that department.  So, I knew whatever it was, was not good, based on Ryan’s reaction, but I just couldn’t figure it out.  So, naturally, I asked Ryan what had happened.  The look he gave me pointed out to me just how ridiculous the question was, but he was kind enough to inform me that we had been rear-ended.  So, now I know (although, I’d really rather not have to put that knowledge to use ever again!).

The best part was when, upon leaving our car after giving us the report, the police officer said to us “have a…(awkward pause)…better night.”  For some reason, I found that very amusing.

And Turkey is right, cars *do* go crunch!