One of Bunny's favorite things to play with is the phone. Ours, of course; why would he play with a toy one? Anyway, the other day we gave him the cordless to keep him from repeatedly rolling over and trying to crawl away while getting his diaper changed. As Andrew was wrapping up the diaper change, we heard a loud knock on the back porch door. The dogs went crazy barking and I looked out the window of the kitchen door, expecting to see my parents. Nooo, it was a policeman, looking very official and kind of frightening. I mean, I knew I hadn't done anything wrong, certainly nothing criminal, but there's just something about officialdom that sends my ever-present low-grade guilt from normal simmer to anxious rolling boil.
Anyway, we struggled to corral the dogs and I slipped out. The policeman (btw, doesn't that seem like a funny title, like something a child made up? Like I should be a librarywoman?) told me that he was there because they received a HANG-UP 911 CALL. Oh yes, he did. I was puzzled for a split second then remembered my darling boy and his favorite toy. "Oh! We gave the phone to our son to play with, and I guess... hahaha... sorry about that."
Andrew and Bunny had come out by this time so the officer asked us if we were the only people living there, took our driver's licenses, and called them in to whomever they call -- headquarters, the dispatcher, the FBI, the Parental Bunglers Hotline -- and when we got the all-clear, he said it was no big deal when we apologized profusely and he left. He was in a pretty good mood. Well, I guess so -- the hang-up 911 turned out not to be a dangerous domestic call or anything even remotely dangerous by any stretch of the imagination, unless you count damage to your eardrums from all the dog barking going on, plus he got a funny story to tell.
That's my Bunny, keeping life interesting for all nearby adults since 2007!