Good Cop, Bad Cop

There is a nice overpass about a half-mile away from our house. It just opened up about 2 years ago, and it is pretty much the best way to get over the freeway and into the money-sucking valley of fast food, strip malls, and the grocery store. There is something about this overpass that makes me feel like I can fly my mini-van down the hill at warp speeds while raising my hands above my head with the kids and shouting “WEEEE.” It’s a great overpass! I have never gotten a ticket there (or anywhere else in a moving vehicle), but I was able to have my fun on it before it became the neighborhood speed trap.

I don't really feel sorry for the people who don’t know about the cops sitting at the bottom of the hill with radar detectors in their hands and dollar signs in their eyes. Most of them are going way too fast. Plus, the traffic stops are something to look at and discuss when traveling home from errands.

So, here was today’s conversation…

Me: Oh, it looks like they got someone.
Thomas: Why did that police man stop them?
Me: Because they were going way too fast down the hill.
Thomas: What is the police man going to do with them?
Me: He is going to give them a ticket.
Thomas: So now they can go to the movies!

I really should explain to him the difference between movie tickets and traffic tickets, but these conversations are just way too much fun, and I hate to take away his innocence. I have been trying to explain to him that cops are nice people, so this little conversation helped the "good cop" definition. Hence, for right now, I am just going to continue letting him think that the nice policemen are handing out tickets to the movies.