Well, Seat Belt check, actually.
So, driving along, minding my own business, fresh from a stop at the local Fabricland Sewing Center where I renewed my membership and priced out Dressmaker's Forms (sort of a life-sized "mini-me"- no, wait; that might be an oxymoron...) WHEN, after having stopped to pick up a couple of friends for Micah to go sliding with, one of the occupants of the car said- (with what, in retrospect, was amazing calm) "There's a Police Car following us!"
And there, indeed, with lights flashing and all, was a City police car.
I proceeded to find a less snowy piece of shoulder to pull onto, and waited.
I hadn't been watching the speedometer, and thought maybe I had been speeding.
I wasn't wearing my seatbelt.
Eight years in this city and they finally nabbed me.
It's been about 24 years since my last ticket...to the best of my knowledge.
So much for the 20-dozen-cinnamon-bun Dressmaker's form.
This is a 22-dozen-cinnamon-bun ticket.
I will be doing some baking before April 11th.
Anybody want to buy some buns?!
Is this a bad way for my husband to find out?