Three year olds say some funny things, and Liam often springs his on me in the car.
“Mum, Mum,” he said with some alarm, “I can’t find my biblical area.”
“Pardon?” I said, surprised, “Your what?”
“My BIBLICAL AREA. I can’t find it, and I’ve looked and looked and it’s gone.” The pitch and the decibels rising in the concern for the missing biblical region.
“Mate, I’m not sure what you mean,” I tried to sound soothing whilst hurtling along the motorway, almost late, as usual.
“The biblical area. That Dad made me. When he cut my biblical spring,” now sensing that I was bewildered, “when I was a BABY.”
The ‘Aha’ moment. His UM-biblical tea. And in my concern, and then relief, I may have let the pedal stray a little closer to the metal. Flashing red and blue lights in the rear-view mirror confirmed it. I pulled over, and wound down the window, awaiting my fate.
“Hello,” came the cheery voice from behind mirrored lessees. Skin smooth and sparkling, not long from acne and first shaves. Youthful enthusiasm bursting from all pores.
“Do you know what speed you were doing Ma’am?”
“Um… Not really… About 90?” I asked hopefully.
“No,” came the helpful voice from the backseat, “you were up to one and one and zero Mum, I saw it on the speedo.”
“Was she really?” said Liam’s new best friend, beaming at me, and putting his hear a little further inside the window.
“Yep. She always does that. Is that a safety violation?”
“Yes it is,” said the teen-cop, laughing now.
“And how about driving your car and talking on your mobile. Is that a safety violation?” asked Liam, warming up to one of his favourite topics.
“Yep, that’s one too,” said junior plod, gleefully as I squirmed in my seat, trying to give Liam meaningful “thats’ enough young man’ looks and the policeman innocent ‘I would never do that’ looks simultaneously.
“And how about when your Dad says ‘fuck’ in the garage when he hurts his thumb? Is that one?”
“Well… Not really a safety violation, but obscene language in front of a minor, certainly a reportable offence,” from the embyronic officer.
“A reportable offence,” echoed Liam thoughtfully, tasting the sound of a new phrase for his repertoire. I could tell that one would be used at a later date.
“Any other safety violations?” asked constable youth, putting his head all the way into the car now, having a great time.
“Hmmm,” said the informant, “what about when your Dad cuts off your biblical spring, then you can’t find your biblical area any more?” asked Liam, all the while making violent slashing gestures towards his nether regions.
“Um…er…not sure about that,” said the cop, pulling his head back out of the car a little.
“And what about if you get your Mum’s tampons, and put them up your nose?” Liam in full cry now, loving every minute of this parry.
“Well. Um. I don’t, um, don’t know.” he almost stuttered, hastily retreating now. Eyes flicking from me, to the whistle-blower, and back. The thought “loonies” flashing like neon across his forehead. “You just drive slower next time okay lady.” he said, walking quickly backwards, and almost stumbling in the rush to get away from the biblical-tampon-violators, or whatever he thought we were.
“They were just tampons he found in my bag,” I yelled out futilely to his disappearing back, “they were new.”
Without a look back he jumped into his car and was off in a screech or gravel. I could just imagine his wide eyes behind those TV-cop sunnies as he took off along the motorway to the relative safety of bikies and druggies and robbers.
“That guy didn’t know very much about tampons Mum,” from the back “and he made a black mark on the road. That’s a safety violation.”
“Yes. Yes it is,” I thought as i set off at a sedate pace. The things kids spring on you.
Sprung by cops.
And a new spring in my step as I realised we’d escaped a ticket.
Three year olds say some funny things.
Hope you enjoyed this one…. From The Asher Archives xx