Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Pesto poopies indeed.

So that was early evening Monday. Later she was inconsolable and after an hour or more of crying (her, not us) I sent Dad and Teresa for a walk. This was 11:45PM... About 15-20 minutes later there's a loud insistant knock on the door. Yes, midnight. Steve is out and I'm trying (unsuccessfully) to sleep. So I get up wondering how Steve could have locked himself out since a key is neede to lock the door, or who else it could be. A peek out the office window and a friendly but commanding voice says, "It's the police."

Ah well right, the police. Yes, the police. The police?? what are they doing here at midnight while my hubby is out peacefully walking our daughter? So I open the door to 3 burly San Jose cops who ask if everything is OK. "Yes, why? What's going on?" (awful images are flashing through my head that Steve and Teresa were hit by a car or worse.)

"Ma'am we had a call from a neighbor concerned about the adults yelling here, have you and your husband been fighting?"

Fighting? Ha! fighting lack of sleep, yes. fighting poopy diapers, yes. fighting each other? no way, rocks of support. Besides, no energy left to raise voices!

"No sir, my baby has been crying the past 90 minutes but no fighting or yelling from us."

So they questioned me further, asked where my husband is (or maybe I volunteered that he was out walking, it is all a blur). They asked if anyone else was home and if they could walk through the house. I said no and yes. Yeah, I could have refused their request to walk into my home, but hell (<- you can tell I'm stressed, swearing like that), I wanted them to believe we're domestically peaceful and not think this a house of such disturbances. They seemed accepting of my explainations but asked for a description of Steve. That delivered, they left and wished us well with my baby.

Shortly thereafter Steve wondered up the street on his way home and was questioned by the cops who were waiting his return. I guess when his story jibed with mine, they were satisfied.

4 cops, 4 cars responding to a domestic disturbance call? Toto, we're not in Oakland any more.

So much for Steve's walk allowing me some precious sleep time. Instead Dad and Teresa returned, we all 3 fatigued. Teresa fed her midnight snack and we all tried to settle down to sleep.

The rest of the night was uneventful, but short and Tuesday continues with the pesto poopies so our dear daughter is still not happy... Mom's not happy either. Dad should be at work, trying to stay awake and get work done; hopefully happy.

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