Last Sunday we took the boys to Lowes. I know, I know, some GRAND ADVENTURE there Mrs. Outdoordogs...but they love the place and Steve needed some lumber for his garage project.
(For the record, I have no idea what he's doing out there, but it allows me to read blogs and twitter; until I have to go fetch the Deuce because he's terrified of the circular saw.)
So, we stop by the hot dog stand on the way out of the store and there is a police man standing there. Both boys stand, frozen, until he acknowledges them. Then the questions start:
Bonus: "Is that a REAL gun?! My gun has an orange tip on it and I don't wike dat."
Police Man: "Yes, buddy. It is a real gun. Yours has an orange tip so we police officers know it's a toy. You need to keep that on there. Did you know bad guys are painting the tips of their guns orange to trick us?"
First, let me say that I'm totally amazed not only at that fact, but because he's taking the time to talk to my sons. We've never had this happen. Generally, they approach the officer and stand there refusing to speak so it looks like I'm the one that wanted to talk to the officer...grrrr. Incidentally, they also did this to me at a concert once. The old banjo player is probably still telling his buddies about it.
Bonus: "Are those REAL handcuffs?! We need handcuffs...we only have a dog leash."
Police Man: (giggling) "Yes, these are real handcuffs." -chuckle, chuckle, chuckle.
(I, am turning beet red at this moment.)
Then little Deuce pipes up with his too adorable stutter: "My daddy, he he he he he he he..."
Not knowing where this was going, but utterly terrified after the dog leash comment, I quickly suggest we go eat our hot dogs on the lawn tractors. (Yes, we're redneck. But the only thing more awe-inspiring to my sons than a police man is a lawn mower.)