The Boy's Cub Scout den toured the new Police Services building today. He was great--kept his hands to himself, raised his hand when he had a question, only threw himself against the side of the building once (sirens are exciting!). They learned about how the officers have training to learn how to handcuff people or to deal with mace, and they got to see the juvenile holding cells, including the one with the "soft walls". These are the particulars that interested the Boy, of course: Conference rooms shmonference rooms, do you have any big weapons?
[As an aside, I just must say: Either a mighty coincidence was afoot or DAMN this town has some hot Protectors of the Peace. I'm not kidding. I think I need more tours of Police Services. Again I say, Daaaaamn. Plus, the building is super friggin' cool.]
Where was I? Oh. On the way home, we were talking about the holding cells. The Boy said, "One of them had a toilet in it! But the door had a window! So people would be able to SEE you PEE!" And I explained that one of the consequences of deciding to commit crimes is that if you're caught, you lose the right to privacy and freedom, more or less. "What if someone took a picture of you peeing, and spread it all over the world!?" the Boy wondered, and that question launched a conversation about what you don't lose the rights to (or should I say, what you aren't supposed to lose the rights to): decent treatment, and so forth. "But what if they did it anyway?" he asked, and I told him that they would likely get into trouble, but that sometimes that sort of thing happened, and that it was one reason I don't like the current president et al., because of something like that that happened to prisoners in another country.
Then the Boy said, "Yeah, I think it isn't good now. I mean, Lincoln was good. And Washington was okay, and other people, but you know what we should really have? A woman president. Because we've never had one! And we should!"
And then I pulled the car over and bought him a pony.
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6 comments:
Maybe a nice tour of the fire department is now in order? Hubba hubba.
Aha! I have daughters who will be of marriagable age someday, you know.
OMFG, firemen. Don't get me started on the firemen. Or rather, please DO... There were several firemen in my family, which probably makes my near-psychotic attraction to them either a)understandable or b)really weird. Whichever. GET ME TO A FIREMAN.
And Sarahlynn, nothing would please me better than to have one of those girls for a d-i-l! Draw up the betrothment papers! Or something. I guess betrothment sort of goes against the entire spirit of the post, but what the hell.
But did you buy him an *anatomically correct* pony? ;^)
Let me know if you want me to contribute funds for feeding said pony, or something. The Boy! Is awesome! And he gets it from his mama.
Mr. K brings home friends sometimes who are always at least three out of the following four: carpenters, firefighters, military veterans, too damn sensitive for their own good. Hooyah.
B.E.C.K.: But of course!
Krup: DAMMit why don't you live next door? I am officially pouting.
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