Swedish-speaking toddler swipes knives, roams streets

Thanks to everyone for explaining that it’s OK that 3B wanders away down the street. I’ll show your comments to the police officer when we report 3B lost for the first time, and maybe attach them to the fliers we staple on telephone poles, and even hand them to the judge when I throw myself on the mercy of the court.

If only a few of you had thought to include other affirmations of my parenting skills, I wouldn’t have such a tough time with child protective services when they come around. Would it have killed you to add something like

  • It’s wonderful that you’re exposing 3B to other cultures and languages so early. With the amount of time he spends with the IKEA catalog, he’ll be almost fluent in absurd Swedish words before he starts school.
  • I think it’s great that 3B is already climbing onto the stool to grab knives off the counters. The sooner he gets hurt, the sooner he learns, and the sooner he learns, the sooner he’ll be safe. Safety first, I always say.
  • What a coincidence–I always find a few olives in my kid’s bottles too. Helps with teething, you know, although he does sometimes stick himself with the toothpick.

Speaking of lost kids, and in honor of NaBloPoMo, which needs a catchier name, like Inane BS That’s Utter, Piddling Idiocy Daily (IBSTUPID), I bring you this found poem, from the police blotter in Mama’s hometown paper–and if you think that bloggers are the original asinine nonfiction authors, that just means that you haven’t read enough small town police blotters. And no, I didn’t make this up–how could I?

3.23 am Lost dog found.

2.01 am Report of persons fighting in apartment above Main Street business.
2.09 am Subject of fighting complaint “out there somewhere.”
2.27 am 12 to 15 people in an apartment.
8.09 am Man at police station for squirrel cage.
10.11 am Woman found dog with gray curly hair.
10.23 am Woman found owner of dog.
6.07 pm 911 canceled. Just a brush fire.
7.36 pm Report of individuals messing with vehicles behind M&M;’s
7.40 pm Officer reported it was someone looking for a cat.

11.05 am Man reported he had a golden retriever at his house and that he didn’t know who it belonged to.
5.11 pm Report of key found behind mills.

6.56 am Woman called regarding squirrels.
9.05 am Report of lost dog.
10.12 am Woman called to ask if someone was arrested.
5.30 pm Man called about a chimney.

1.45 am Report of people walking through backyards on 3rd Ave with flashlights. People claimed they were looking for a prescription bottle and were told to resume their search in daylight and get the landowner’s permission.
10.50 am Unoccupied truck hit parked truck. Apparently the unoccupied truck came out of gear and rolled backward.
12.42 pm Call asking if there is a dog at the police station.

4.11 pm Man called to say he would be target practicing in Lebeouf’s pit.
11.52 pm Call asking who is winning–“Sox 13-1 Yahoo!”

7.58 am Man reports he has a deer hanging on a pole, and there’s a loose dog that won’t get away from his place.
2.31 pm Call saying kids were not at school.
7.33 pm Male called to ask if Tommy D’s was closed.

And that’s the way it is. Good night, Gracie.

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  • 1) Catalogs are an important facet of early literacy. Just kidding.

    2)Climbing: excellent! Grabbing knives: no. Time to get some drawer locks and put those guys away.

    3)Toddler martinis are definitelly shaken, not stirred.

    I used to love reading the police blotter in the local paper when we lived in the Sierra foothills.

    Another source of fun was the
    Gold Panner, the local Pennysaver-type circular. People were always putting in ads like: “5 rottweiler puppies, $250 each; 1 hot tub, needs patching, $50; 1 antique dresser, hot pink, $75; 17 snowblowers, hardly used, $300 for all; 1 wedding dress, never worn, slight vomit stain, $25.”

  • One of my favorite parts of the paper when we were in school in Maine was the Police Beat. Always good for a laugh.

  • Henitsirk: Yikes.

    DW: Yeah, same in Colorado. There was one about a whistle pig on the railroad tracks, walking off into the sunset, waving goodbye, singing a song or something. Who says you can’t drink on the job when you work at a newspaper?