Yesterday morning Aili was playing upstairs in the loft. I was there too, tidying some of the toys and checking Facebook. She’s pretty good at entertaining herself, especially if she has an electronic device, such as a remote control, the computer mouse… or the phone.
She likes the phone because it has lots of buttons and makes noises, and is just the right size for those little hands. Once she hit redial and accidentally called Alexa, but she’s never actually dialled and number and then ‘talk’ and called someone. Until yesterday. When she decided to inaugurate her dialling career by starting with ‘911’.
I had no idea this had happened, because after actually reaching an operator, apparently, she hung up on them. Oblivious, I gave her a snack and put her down for her nap at the appropriate time… and then the police showed up.
It turns out that they investigate every 911 call from a residential address, in case of domestic abuse. I suppose this is a good thing, but in this case anyway, more than a little bit of a waste of time. Also, I am incredibly intimidated by police officers at any time, especially in my house! (And if I’d had any warning I would have picked up some of that dog hair with the dustbuster…)
I looked out the window to see two police cruisers parked in front of my house, lights on. Two police officers, a man and a woman, came to the door. I let them in, and they had to look around to make sure that everything was ok and that no one was being abused. They asked if anyone else was in the house, and when I told them my one-year-old daughter, he said that there probably wouldn’t be any point in talking to her then. “Not unless you want to know what sound a puppy-dog makes,” I said.
Of course the dog is beside himself with excitement that we have guests in the middle of the day. How nice to be a dog, and have no sense of embarassment. Leo comes running up, stuffed cat in mouth, to the big, tall uniformed officer, with his bulletproof vest and no doubt his taser at the ready.
“What’s his name?” asked the officer.
“Leo” – I am completely intimidated by the police.
“That’s MY name,” says the officer, not impressed.
After a few minutes of note-taking, looking through the house, and actually admiring my Christmas decor (thank you, nice police lady!) they figured out that both Aili and I are happy, healthy, and not being abused by anybody. I apologized for wasting their time, they said it happens more often than you’d think, and off they went.
And then they stood at the end of my driveway, cruiser lights still all aglow, and had a 25-minute conversation in full view of the neighbours, no doubt about the squadron Christmas party last night or something else. I’m sure all the other stay-at-home moms on our street – and there are a number of them – – were watching out the window and DYING to know what was going on!
Moral of the story: Don’t let your kid play with the phone.