Becky's 60th surprise party was a hit! As the festivities wound down sometime after midnight, I rounded up our crew to make the drive back south to the city. Just before the reaching the highway in Mason, we pulled up to a mandatory sobriety checkpoint. I've got three inebriated passengers, shot glasses mounted along a ski in the middle of the seats (if the Randalls are at a party, the shotski is close by!) and the unmistakable smell of alcohol wafting from the car. With the dim lighting and my dark dress, it's not obvious that I am 5 months pregnant. I was prepared for an interesting conversation with the police officer.
Instead, he calmly peeked in the window, asked me a couple simple questions and quickly sent us on our way, without so much of a mention of the malarchy above. I wasn't sure whether to be glad the officer could so quickly recognize a sober driver, or disappointed that we could pass through in that state of affairs without explaining a thing.
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SL