So, I'm pregnant with my third child, and it's "comin on Christmas," and the baby is now six days past her due date. (Clearly, not the funny part.)
Finally, early on a Sunday evening, labor starts. I called my mother to alert her to the latest developments, as she has graciously offered to stay with daughters #1 and #2 when I go to the hospital, and I wanted to give her time to come over and get settled in calmly before the Englishman and I depart.
Now comes the funny part.
Either Mom didn't hear me when I said I still had plenty of time before I had to leave or she was just too anxious for the arrival of another grandchild, but within minutes she was behind the wheel of her Cadillac and speeding towards my house.
Yup, speeding.
Which explains the police car following her.
All the way into my driveway.
Upon reaching her destination, my mother quickly exited her vehicle and hastily headed for our front door. That's when she heard a loud male voice call out "Um, ma'am, ma'am!"
Without missing a step, "Grandma on a mission" waved her arm and emphatically shouted back, "Get away from me! I don't have time to talk to you. My daughter's having a baby!"
So shocked must have been the poor policeman's reaction that he quickly did as he was told, got back in his vehicle and departed.
Daughter #3 is expecting to deliver "Little Girl" any day now. Unlike my mother, I won't need to go and take care of little ones for her when she departs. The females currently residing in her house are of the four legged variety. But if granddaughter #3 doesn't arrive soon, before her Grandad and Aunt depart for a week's business trip in Europe, Grandmom will be flying her way up the Garden State Parkway, basset hounds in tow!
Take note, State Troopers. I won't "have time to talk to you."
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