And That’s When the Cops Pulled Into Our Driveway

Originally posted here on December 25, 2011

Last year’s Christmas story featured some classic Mom antics. Trust me, she had her moments this Christmas as well. (At church: Me – “Who’s that?” Mom – “Yes, I’m excited about the rolls, too!”) But this year, it was all about the police and marijuana.Don’t worry, the two are not related. This story doesn’t end in prison.First, we’ll start with how we all awoke this morning. It was kind of like a poem. But kind of not.

We set our alarms for 7am. I was up at 5am because I’m ridiculous and still get just as excited for Christmas morning as I did when I was 5 years old. But shortly after 7 we all heard the sound of silver bells…or security alarm bells. My dad tripped the alarm on his way downstairs which caused my mom and I to spring from our beds to see what was the matter. We didn’t spring too quickly because accidentally tripping the alarm is something that happens on a daily basis often around here.

After the alarm goes off the security center calls the house to make sure there isn’t an actual perpetrator on the premises. They usually call immediately afterwards, but since we are so good at setting the alarm off they probably run a few errands, grab a cup of coffee, maybe send out some belated emails before calling our house.

Except for this morning, they called back while we were in the middle of setting the alarm off for a second time so we weren’t quite able to get to the phone in time.

So they just sent the police over.

Merry Christmas! There’s a cop in the driveway!

We gave him a plate of cookies and brownies and our condolences.

About 30 minutes later we were opening Christmas presents. At which time my dad, who is 77 and does full-time prison ministry, felt compelled to utter, “It makes you wonder: how many people are opening Christmas presents this morning, and there’s marijuana inside?”

At which time my mom, who wouldn’t know marijuana from marigolds, felt compelled to sniff the envelope to her card and utter, “Mmmmm, pot.”

And that’s how my senior citizen parents and I started Christmas morning.

Here’s hoping that all of your mornings were equally joy-filled. And less filled with cops and hash.

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