Tag Archives: Aunt Nancy

No Dice

Last week I got a speeding ticket. It was totally my fault. I was speeding. I had no idea I was speeding, but I was. So the girl who drives like a granny was issued a ticket for going 42 in a 35. Boo.

That story is pretty much uneventful. In fact, I’m done talking about  it. (Until I have to fork up the $90 next month.) But it sparked a nice conversation between the fiance, DD Girl and myself about more memorable encounters with the law.

Since the fiance and I are uber competitive we think you should vote on whose story is better. (Obviously, I have the upper hand as the writer, but I will try to be fair here.) Then, you should share your own story in the comments. Ready? Go!

My Story:

In college I worked at Old Navy and I drove the same car I currently drive. However, since my dad still owned the car and paid taxes for it in Johnson County, KS, it had Kansas tags. (My parents lived in Germany at the time.) I attended school and lived in Johnson City, TN. When I turned 21, I needed a new driver’s license, but apparently the nice people in the Volunteer State don’t find a dorm room is an acceptable address.  Luckily, Aunt Nancy lived a hop, skip and a six-hour jump away in Kentucky. So, using her address as my residence, I had a Kentucky driver’s license.

Got all that? Kansas tags, a Kentucky driver’s license and living in Tennessee.

On my way home from an evening of folding denim, I was pulled over. I was probably speeding because I more than likely needed to get back to study for something I had put off. Mr. Police officer took my license, walked around behind my car and immediately returned to my window.

[Editor’s Note: The following scene has been recreated from my memory and is not intended to be an actual quotation of the conversation between Mr. Police officer and myself.]

“Maam, you have Kansas plates, a Kentucky driver’s license and as far as I can tell, we’re still in Tennesee. Where do you live?”

“Milligan College?” I answered/asked.

“Can you please explain to me why you have multiple states represented here?”

“Well, my parents live in Germany, but my dad owns this car in Kansas. He pays taxes, so don’t worry about that. I live in Williams dorm at Milligan, but I can’t use that as my address, so my Aunt Nancy in Kentucky lets me use her address for my license.”

Mr. Police officer returned to his squad car and returned shortly with a warning ticket.

“I’m giving you a warning because quite frankly, you are too much paper work. But please don’t speed again.”

Pretty good story, huh? You liked it? Ok, I’m now going to share this kind of good story from the fiance.

His story:

On his way to somewhere (not important, but it’s probably a very nerdy destination.) the fiance (aka lead foot) was pulled over.  He followed the necessary steps of opening his glove box and handing the officer his license, registration and proof of insuranace.

The officer then asked him to go with him to his squad car. So the fiance turned to his buddies, shrugged his shoulders and said he’d be back.

In the car, the officer asked him point blank was was in the blue baggie in his glove box. Immediately understanding that the blue baggie was under suspicion for illegal substances, the fiance breathed a silent sigh of relief.

He explained to the officer that it was his bag of dice, used for D&D and a variety of other nerdy games.

Needing more proof, the officer asked him to show him the bag. Happy to oblige, the fiance took him back to his car, opened up his glove compartment and removed the suspicious bag. He reached inside and pulled out a variety of die, explaining how a 20-sided die would be used, a 10-sided etc…

Completely baffled, the officer left, shaking his head over the fact that he had pulled over a car full of nerds, and not a car full of criminals. (Technically speaking, of course.)

So now you vote and then you share your story.

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Staycation

I am blatantly stealing this phrase from my BlogHer roomie. 

It’s time for a staycation.

Sleeping in.

Hanging out by my pool.

Stopping by my parents’ house to check in on them as they prepare for their move. And then hightailing it out of there when their madness gets to be too much.

Visiting with my Aunt Nancy who is in town.

And in general just relaxing. Not working. Not blogging (if I can help it.). Not reading blogs. Just not. not .not.

I promise I’ll be back next week with plenty of stories to tell.

Stephanie slept in. Stephanie read a book. Stephanie went for a run. Stephanie went to the dog park. Stephanie watched 4 hours of the Real Housewives in a row from her DVR.

Ok, hopefully they’ll be more exciting than that…

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The Thanksgiving Tree

When I was a little girl, my family always traveled to Bowling Green, KY on Thanksgiving. This was an 8-hour trip invovling repeat tape flips of The Muppets Christmas Album. (FIVE GOLD RINGS!) Usually, mischief between my brother and myself would ensue around the six hour mark–Evansville, IN. (“He hit me!” “Shut up, brat!” “Daaad!”)  Inevitably, we would arrive at my aunt’s house with one of my parents dragging one of us past the warm hugs and greetings of my aunt and uncle — oblivious to the 8-hour hell ride shinannagins–into a back bedroom for one of several punishment options including but not limited to time out, instant bed time, a soapy mouth washing, or an old-fashioned spanking. Good times.

But by Thursday morning, Wednesday night’s shameful arrival was all but forgotten and I would wake up early to climb in bed with my aunt and uncle and their dog, Misty. We would talk and catch-up on the details of my very busy 9-year-old life. Sometimes Aunt Nancy would give me a task to do such as organizing her jewelry box. Then, she would get up and start fixing the meal. I would tag along behind helping, talking (Hey, I have always been a talker. Nothing’s changed here.) or simply watching her construct our yummy meal.

One year, Aunt Nancy decided to give me an art project. On a construction board, she drew a tree.

thanksgiving-tree2

She gave me some construction paper and instructions to cut out leaves. On these leaves we were to write things we were thankful for.

Over the years, the trip didn’t change much. The car ride was still brutal, the Muppets were still singing and the Thursday morning routine was still the same. But as our lives changed, the leaves reflected our growth.

A long time ago, Aunt Nancy lost the original tree. Since then, we’ve recreated the tree several times over. But the concept remains the same. Write down what you are thankful for on a construction paper leaf and tape it to the tree.

leaf1

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Slumber Party

A while back I called my Aunt Nancy. It was around 3 in the afternoon.

Me: Hey! What are you up to?

AN: Oh Hi! I’m at a slumber party? [Aunt Nancy is in her 60s.]

Me: A what?

AN: A slumber party with my girlfriends. [This part didn’t surprise me, but the time of day caught me off gaurd.]

Me: Um, Ok. But Aunt Nancy, it’s 3 in the afternoon. I thought slumber parties started at night.

AN: Oh, we’ve been going since 10 a.m. We went shopping, then we went out to lunch and now we are playing bridge.

Me: What’s next?

AN: Wine and soup!!! And we rented that movie “The Other Bolyn Sister. ” So we are going to watch that.

Me: Wow. I don’t know what to say.

AN: Oh, gotta go, we are starting a new round of bridge.

I love Aunt Nancy. She’s perfect.

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