The Breastfeeding Excuse...Works Every Time

I got pulled over the other day. After Kev got home that afternoon I ran into town to run a few quick errands. I needed to be back no later than six to feed Holland so I was in a rush. There is construction on the main road that leads to our neighborhood and the speed limit recently changed from 60 to 45 while workers are there...or so I thought. I came cruising down the road at 5:59 at 55 mph. There was a sheriff's car parked in the parking lot of the high school, which is not at all unusual. Since we are in the quasi-country there are no police. Just the randomly circulating sheriffs that do everything from patrolling football games to picking up stray dogs. I even gave the deputy a little "Bushland wave" as I passed, which basically consists of lifting a finger off the steering wheel in salutation. After about a quarter mile I saw him pull out behind me. There was a cycler in front of me, so I had already slowed way down because the road is, for now, only 2 lanes. I pulled into our neighborhood and he turned on his lights. There I am, on the busiest main road of our development at 6 o'clock in the evening when all of my neighbors are pulling in from work. I was so thankful that I have a new car instead of my instantly recognizable 4-runner! So, the deputy strolls up to the van and I rolled down my window. He was all of about 19 years old. He got my license and registration and as he was turning to walk back to his patrol car I said, "Is there any possible way that you could hurry? I'm trying to get home to feed my baby. You know, feed my baby," while gesturing to my chest. The wave of realization and then panic was only slightly visible in his expression. He came back to the car with his revenge. As he handed me my warning (thank you God it was just a warning!), he said, "And can I get your approximate weight, mam?" What the??
I've never been asked my weight when I've gotten pulled over before! Are you freaking kidding me?? HELLO! I just told you I just had a baby! I should have just started crying right then and there. But he may have decided to take me to the crazy house for some mandatory post-partum treatment....which, let's face it, would probably be kind of like a nice vacation. Instead I gave him my "approximate" weight, which translats my real weight minus 5 pounds, and thanked him kindly for my warning. Then I came home and fed my baby.