Merry Frickin' Christmas from the Highway Patrol.

So. N.O. and I leave his folks' house in one of the suburbs of Someothercity (heck, let's call it Square Stone) early on the 26th, after a lovely Christmas. I offer to drive, because N.O. is just getting over a hellacious cold (he never gets sick EVER, except at Christmas--then, always).

Within about ninety seconds, we see a state DPS trooper. Check the spedometer--actually going a wink under the limit, so, no problem. Nod, friendly-like, to the trooper and his partner, who are, for some reason, staring into our vehicle. Right. Not speeding, no big deal. So, WHY are they slowing down and pulling us over. CRAP! What did I dooooooo?

I start to unbuckle my seatbelt, in order to reach my wallet, but then, remember the seatbelt laws, and quickly buckle it back up again. Officer McNasty (just kidding, he was actually quite polite) walks up to the passenger-side window. N.O. rolls down the window.

Officer: We're looking for seatbelt violations today, and we noticed you didn't have your seatbelt on.
Me: Oh, no, officer, actually, I DID have it on, I just took it off for a second just now.
Officer: Not you, ma'am. This gentleman here.
N.O. and I (looking at each other blankly): What?

Because here's the thing. I'm the first to admit, N.O. does not always wear his seatbelt. Oh, he always gets it on eventually, he's just not super-great about putting it on before the car is moving. I am hyper-aware of this, because it drives me INSANE. I nag him about it continually. I mean, what is the point of having a seatbelt if you're only going to wear it sometimes? And what, you think accidents only happen at speeds greater than 50 mph? So what's the deal? PUT IT ON! That's always been my sure-fire, no-exceptions motto.

Which is probably one of the many reasons why, on this particular occasion, N.O. was safely buckled in.

We honestly and sincerely explain that, while we're sure that everyone says this, N.O. really, really was wearing his seatbelt. N.O. carefully demonstrates that the seatbelts in his truck actually emerge from the seatback rather than the doorjamb thingie, making it virtually impossible to see them from outside the vehicle, and rendering the officer's mistake, in this case, utterly understandable. We are polite, genuine, and un-argumentative. Upon seeing the unique seatbelt setup, the officer blinks (I think he was convinced, for a second there) and goes back to his irritating blonde partner, to see if she is sure.

He comes back a moment later, "I'm sorry, but my partner was sure she saw you lean over and you weren't wearing your seat belt. We're not allowed to write warnings for seat belt stops, so I'm going to have to give you a ticket, sir. I'll need your driver's license. Ma'am, can I also see your driver's license and insurance?"

Me: No problem, here it is.
Officer McPukeface: This insurance card is expired. Do you have a more recent copy?
Me (with sinking feeling, weakly digging in purse but knowing it's no use): What? Um, no. I really do have insurance, I guess we didn't put the latest copy in the truck yet.
Officer McJustdoinghisjob: It's the driver's responsibility to make sure there is current proof of insurance in the vehicle at all times. I'm going to issue you a citation. Make sure you call this number within ten days and provide them with proof of insurance. Merry Christmas.

Officer McGenericson, in an undated file photo

Argh. The insurance thing is a nuisance, but as we can prove we really were insured, it will probably just be a matter of a small charge, a fax or two, and we're on our way. But the seat belt thing really grates, because, while few things stink more than getting a ticket, even fewer things stink more than getting a ticket for something you didn't do!

But, on the plus side, know what I like about Everystate's Highway Patrol? Really, really like? The uniforms. No joke. Very cool, rugged, and a teense old-fashioned. Way to not screw it up, Everystate. Let's keep it that way.

And as a special little Happy New Year to me, I am now coming down with a yicky cold, too.

This New Year's Eve, even Dick Clark will look better than me.