The Police, Live

It is comforting to know that the response time of the Lancaster PD to our house is well under the five minute mark. I know this because earlier this week Jack, sensing some kind of emergency perhaps related to our quickly dwindling supply of Cheerios, dialed 911. I assume the 911 operator was distressed enough by the repeated cries of "No", the high pitched squealing, and the quick hang-up to register this call as an honest-to-God emergency and sent a car right over. Of course Jack had been dialing the phone all morning, perhaps some of you on the speed dial received similar unexplained calls, but it never occurred to us that he had been successful in his attempts. I was upstairs changing a particularly ripe diaper when I heard Otis barking and growling more menacingly than usual - it actually spooked me a bit. Dan went to check on the cause of the commotion and found a LPD officer standing at the door. "Someone here called 911?" he asked. Dan assured him that nobody here would have done such a thing, then it dawned on him that one of us here just might have. I can only imagine the guilt stricken, horrified, chagrined look on his face as he explained to the officer that our infant son who could be heard happily hooting away upstairs may have managed punch in those numbers while playing with the phone just a few minutes ago. Luckily the officer was very nice and did not issue us a ticket or even give us a warning. However, I fear that our name may now appear on some kind of list down at headquarters, the don't bother rushing on over there list. On the bright side, I do think that it speaks highly of Jack's fine motor skills development that he was able to dial 911 with such ease.