Breaking The Law

For the last year, I’ve picked up Mallie Bee on the same street.  Every day, 2:45.   Usually around one of these signs posted on the street.  I’ve got the company of other parents, as well, and a new mom asked me if it was o.k. to pick up there considering the signs.  Sure thing, I said, nobody cares.  Nobody cared until a couple of days later when the Popo pulled up next to me and said…..

Ma’am you can’t park here.  Oh, I can’t?

Do you see the signs?  I do, Officer, but I’m not parking. 

Ma’am, you’ll have to move, we’re trying to prevent cars from getting stacked up.  You mean all five of them.

You can park one block over, but not here.  And the difference would be? 

The difference would be that there aren’t any no parking signs there like the one right in front of you.   Duly noted, Deputy Fife.

Eight no parking signs on a residential side street kicking everybody out where a current or former president does not live.  Overkill, City Council, overkill.  I told the Beester we’ll give it a couple of weeks and lay low and then I’ll go back to picking her up in the usual spot.  The Popo may have the stinkin’ badges, but I’ve got my stinkin’ rights and pay my stinkin’ taxes.  Just like the Tea Party, I’m going to start a movement and parking rules are just the tip of the iceberg.  

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Author: Kathleen Fisher

Kathleen Fisher is a Chicago girl at heart though she moved from there many years ago when a handsome scientist swept her off her feet. What started as a light-hearted blog about life, marriage, and kids turned more serious in September of 2018 when her husband of 35 years ended his life. A new journey began that day and she now writes about unexpected loss, grief, and finding a path towards healing.

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