It’s Superbowl Sunday and Plaintiff and I are getting ready to watch the big game. We’re surprised to get a call from one of our beloved children… even more surprised when she asks for our help…
Apparently after work the night before, she drove down to a restaurant and met up with some friends. After eating, they decided to drive to Chicago and go to some clubs. Now, the next day, her friends have scattered and she can’t remember where the restaurant where she parked her boyfriends MOTHERS SUV is. “Daddy please come help.”.
Being the loving, nurturing, caring individual that I am, and after Plaintiff told me I had to, I went and picked up her highness and proceeded to drive up and down the freeway. She could remember that it wasn’t far off the freeway. She couldn’t remember how far from work it was, or what exit. We drove and we drove. I covered from Milwaukee to just north of Racine.
Finally, low on gas I hopped off the freeway and pulled into a gas station. As I was filling the truck with gas, a Wisconsin State Police car pulled in and began gassing up behind me. I went back and talked to the officer to see if he had any ideas on how to find the vehicle.
As I got back in beside my crown princess, I muttered that the officer had given me a ticket. “Why?” she inquired. “For raising a moron without a permit.” was my response.
I never did make it home in time to see any of the big game and the vehicle was discovered a few days later … it’s a story that she’ll never live down.