Repeat Offender

My parents live just a few streets over; in July, when Jeff was unavailable, my parents were the ones who cared for Aidan, Leo, and Pax during my mornings at reading clinic.  The boys looked forward to "Camp Grandma and Grandpa" as one of the best parts of summer.  And it's no wonder, when mornings were full of adventure, beginning as my dad arrived to pick them up....

....in his new golf cart.  There's nothing cuter than seeing a proud grandpa zipping through the streets with three grinning grandsons (safely strapped in, of course).

There's nothing cuter than that - unless, of course, you happen to be a police officer.

At dinner one night, Pax told his first-ever story, complete with hand motions, sound effects, "big eyes," stealthy glances, and a mischievous grin.

Pax's Account:
Cops.
Zoom!
Home.
Hide.
No cops.
Zoom!

Perfectly told and practically poetic, this boy rendered his first tale, and quite a fine one, at that.  We were a captive audience, delighted to hear it told, again and again, as Pax perfected his timing, delivery, and animated expression.

The full story:
The crowded golf cart set off in the direction of my parents' home when they spotted a police cruiser.  Quick as lightening, my dad turned around and fled back to the cover of our driveway.  The officer did a slow drive-by of our house, staring intently at the four people sitting in a golf cart but refusing to make eye contact.  Eventually, the officer drove away, and finally my dad could drive the golf cart and its giggling passengers back to his house.

I asked Pax, "And who were you with when this happened?" Shooting a furtive glance in each direction, he replied, "Grandpa!" and with a tone that implied, who else would you expect?  Grandpa, of course!