I haven’t gotten a speeding ticket, or any ticket for that matter, in more than 15 years. Since COLLEGE people. When I was young and zipping through the streets.
I was on my way to meet my parents for lunch so they could pick up my toddler, who was going to spend the week with them. People were driving like they had all the time in the world and were just sitting there in the car like they were killing time. Not as if they had some place to go.
I was on a little two lane highway. Yes, I was running late but that isn’t why I was speeding, just a little. I thought I missed my exit and this stretch of little highway all looks the same. But that isn’t why I was speeding either. I was speeding because I was irritated about the people driving BELOW the speed limit. People of Northern California: If the speed limit says 70, please do at least 65 or move over.
This is why I was speeding. It’s not a good reason but it’s the truth. I was stuck behind these slow drivers for 30 minutes with no relief and when there was a break, I got a little too excited and started zipping along a little too zippily. The car just had a mind of it’s own. It just zipped through the cow pastures and fields of sheep.
Sigh.
The cop didn’t take pity on me with the two under two in the backseat, each of which started to cry when we stopped, although he did write the ticket for under the speed I was going, so that was nice. Maybe a little pity.
The clincher though is this: He reached in and gave my kid a little sheriff sticker. Which the kid accepted and said thank you with a smile.
Crazy Loves Company 
Traitor!