911 is a Joke…*

…to the Boy.

Last night, we all turned in early. The Teen was already asleep, the Mister was watching the basketball game, the Boy was chatting with Queenie on the phone and I was doing a meditation on conquering my fears.

Then bang, Bang, BANG!!!

Thinking it my neighbor, I ignored it. The Mister even turned the TV up.

Again, bang, Bang, BANG.

What the hell?

Apparently, the instruction to go to bed after talking to Queenie was forgotten and the Boy called 911.

Mickey Frickey.

The cop that showed up was cool about it. He shined a flashlight to ensure we were indeed not harmed than laughed. Of course every neighbor was at their door, peeking out.

The Mister and I stood in the darkened living room pondering the why of it all. The we went upstairs to scold the Boy. Of course he denied it. He forgot that phones have a redial button and ours said plain as day “911”.

“Think we should call that cop back?” I asked the Mister as he turned various shades of pissed.

*Apologies to Public Enemy: Fight The Power!