Little Ditty ‘Bout Jeffrey and Denise…and CCPD. And Fire Rescue.

Truth: I had originally intended this to be part of the Friday Round-Up (still pending better title, have received some excellent submissions…) but as I started writing I realized that this deserved its very own space.  There are lots of words.  Read them and don’t complain.
Saturday night.  Even BC (before children) we weren’t really “wild and crazy weekend” folks.  Well, not in a looong time.  So our typical Saturday night routine includes making a pizza or grilling steaks, unloading the DVR, me drinking half-ish a bottle of wine, and falling asleep on the couch.  Be jeally.  (Actually, I think it’s totally awesome and love that our weekends are low key…less things that button, more yoga pants!)
This weekend’s Saturday night was no different.  We ate dinner, Miles went to bed around 8:30p, and we watched some college football.  Evan asked if I wanted to watch, “Hell on Wheels.”  Side note: this is an insanely awesome show on AMC about the railroads and if you aren’t watching it, you need to…Evan loves Oregon Trail and I love rugged, handsome cowboys (hello, Anson Mount!), so this is win-win in our house.  Also, it’s a really cool part of American history.  And we all know that I am better at learning historical facts when there are handsome cowboys involved (with beards…did I mention Anson Mount has this insanely awesome beard?)
Giddy up!
I digress.  I agreed to watching the show, even though I knew it was already 9:19pm and there was no stinking way I’d be staying up until 10pm (wine, remember?)  By 9:23pm I was already responding with, “YES, I AM AWAKE” and “Yes, I saw the handsome cowboy shoot the donkey that was stuck on the train tracks.”  To be fair, I always pick on Ev when he falls asleep during a really good show, but that’s because it is literally every show we watch, ever, even if it’s like 2:30pm on a Saturday.
I fall asleep on the couch, snuggled under a quilt and Pookie.  Yes, these are the things the most epic naps in the world are made of.
You know that horrible feeling when you’re startled out of a really awesome, deep sleep?  Where you get the shakes, and that hot prickly feeling on the back of your neck and in your armpits?  Just me?  Whatever.
Evan comes into the living room, and instead of choosing to gently awaken his slumbering Princess Bride, he chooses to announce in a quiet-stern-don’t wake the baby voice, “HONEY, THERE IS A PROBLEM OUTSIDE, BUT DON’T WORRY…SOMEONE HAS CALLED THE POLICE AND I HAVE IT UNDER CONTROL.”  Then he vanishes, all Batman-like.
DOUBLE YOU, TEE, EFF?!?!
Was that a dream?  No, I think I’m awake, and my armpits feel like ants are biting them, so this is probably real.  Plus, I didn’t finish my third glass of wine (typical new mom problems) so I’m pretty sure I know what’s going on. 
I walk through the kitchen and into the garage, since I’m certain that’s where I saw my Caped Crusader disappear.  No one in the garage, but the side door is open.  I venture out the side door, not knowing what to expect (Joker?  Riddler?  Danny DeVito in like, my favorite DeVito role ever?)
Now you’ll have nightmares, too.
It’s dark; the street light is on, but our outside lights are off.  All of a sudden, I see a large, ominous figure walking barefoot (sigh, I should have known then…) down the street.  Where is this person going?  Is it a man or a woman?  I can’t tell, but they look scary, and maybe a little dangerous.  This Sea Monster (that’s what it reminds me of…that sea monster from the 50s sci-fi flick…Creature from the Black Lagoon) opens his/her/its mouth and says:
&&*(*(*&!!!!!@@@@^&%$##@#%$#$!!!!!!!!!!*(*&&^**^&%$$#!!!!!!!!!
Emphasis on the !!!!!!!!!!!

Also:
What?  Too much Google imaging for one post?
Holy cow, now I’m starting to freak just a little bit.  Did Evan say someone was calling the police?  Who?  And where is Evan?  Did I dream that?  I hightail it back inside, and call the police.  The super friendly dispatcher tells me that someone has, indeed, called to report the disturbance.  Phew, I feel a little bit better.
I check on Miles and he is (naturally) sleeping soundly in his crib.  Now it’s time to hunt down my husband.
I step out the front door and onto our porch; the light is on, which is a good sign (right?)  It means we aren’t hiding from a chainsaw wielding murderer or hoard of angry killer tomatoes or space slugs from outer space. 
I see Evan walking through the front yard with a flashlight and a nine iron.  I see a car parked across the street at the park, with four people (two Sea Monsters, one young guy who seems like a Jersey Shoreknock-off, and an older dude with a ripped t-shirt).  Evan proceeds to tell this mob that “no one is doing anything” in a very Jersey-commanding voice.  I tell Evan I’ve called the police, just to be safe.
More expletives from the Sea Monsters and Jersey Shore Knock-Off.  Ripped T-Shirt is sort of wandering around the car, stumbling into the street.  I’ve gone from nervous to verging on panic, but keeping my cool because my nine iron wielding superhero husband has reassured me that everything is under control.
So what happened?  Evan heard a ruckus outside, and did what us Nosey Parkers usually do: take the dog for a walk across the street.  Sea Monster 1 and Jersey Shorewere arguing with Sea Monster 2 and Ripped T-Shirt.  Thing 2 tells Thing 1 that she will, “Never, ever get her daughter back!” to which Thing 1 responds with, “She’s my flesh and blood!” and general chaos ensures.
Jersey Shorestarts fistfight with T-Shirt McGee.  General chaos continues.
Thing 1 and Jersey Shorestart walking down the street, followed by Thing 2, yelling more expletives.  Thing 2 tells Evan that Thing 1 and Jersey are “on drugs” and “homeless” and they do not have custody of their daughter because the grandfather (yes, T-Shirt McGee) does.  Thing 1 and JS were, apparently, going to sleep under the bridge at the park.  Oh-hell-to-the-no.  This is around the time Evan came it to tell me there was a problem outside.
Anyway, the yelling and punching and swearing and throwing things wasn’t nearly as entertaining as when the police finally (!!!) showed up.
Three police.  One ambulance.  One fire rescue truck.  Yes, it was flashing lights and men in uniform as far as the eye could see.
T-Shirt McGee goes off in the ambulance.  The police attempt to question the Sea Monsters and Jersey Shore.  This does not go well.  More yelling.  More swearing.  More, “SHE’S MY BABY!!!”
“You are NOT the father!”
Anyway, all of that wasn’t really as entertaining as the actual arrest.  Because finally finally finaaaaaally, after half an hour of this, they take Sea Monster 1 and Jersey Shoreinto custody.  Conversation yelled between the two police cars as follows:
Thing 1: I LOVE YOU JEFFREY!!!
Jersey Shore: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, DENISE!!!!
Thing 1: Baby, we will be together forever!  Ain’t nothin’ gonna stop us! (ahem, maybe the police…)
JS: DENISE!!!  I’m scared!  What are we going to do when we get out of jail?
T1: Go to New York baby, screw all our friends and family down here!  We don’t need them as long as we have each other! (obviously)
JS: OWOWOWOWOWOWOW!  You’re hurting me!  Stop it!  I’m not resisting!  I’m going to sue you!  DENISE!  Did you see this cop knocked my tooth out?! (he did not; T-Shirt did…also, just get in the stupid police car and shut up)
This episode of Maury Povich went on for another 10 minutes or so.  Evan had to give a written statement (after I reminded him to put the nine iron down), then these two lovebirds were hauled off to the slammer.  And, not a moment too soon…because if those police didn’t get them to shut up, I was going to be the first one arrested for THROAT PUNCHING ALL OF THEM.  Do not wake my baby up, jerkfaces.
Sea Monster 2 spent the next hour or so sitting on the hood of the car at the park, because T-Shirt McGee actually had the car keys with him.  Evan stayed up to make sure that she darn sure GTFO’d as soon as someone showed up with spare keys.
Yes, just a peaceful, quiet Saturday night with my Dark Knight, a nine iron, and the Cape Coral Police Department and Fire Rescue.  Oh, and Miles never opened his sweet little peepers once.

How was your weekend?
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