Lesson. Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary says, in part, this about the word lesson: . . . 3 a: something learned by study or experience (his years of travel had taught him valuable lessons); b: an instructive example (the lessons of history).
Further, the word lesson is derived from Middle English lessoun, from Old French le’on, from Late Latin lection-, lectio, from Latin, act of reading, from legere to read.
I know, ‘Rush, cut to the chase.? Whatever. All I really know is life is full of ’em.
We learn lessons everyday and if we’re lucky, we learn most of the really good ones early enough to survive into a healthy old age. This past weekend a group of us learned some lessons, courtesy of three beefy Oakland County Sheriff’s deputies. Yep, they were some big dudes.
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Saturday evening was going on swimmingly. We were visiting — well, I won’t say whose home we were visiting as to save them from a little embarrassment. We were in the company of some people we know who happen to live on Cranberry Lake Road in Independence Township. Also in the company of the unnamed-to-protect-their-identity couple, was another couple — in from Grand Rapids for the Thanksgiving holiday.
Couple B, we’ll call them the Kramers, have two children, roughly the same age as our rough and rumble boys, Shamus and Sean. And, whenever the Kramers get together with the Rush Clan, which is usually a couple of times a year, the kids have a grand time.
‘How’s it going Shamus, ol? buddy, ol? pal,? eight-year-old Alex Kramer will say while giving the seven-year-old Rush a big bear hug, just before going off to the fun world only second-graders know.
The four-year-olds, Lauren Kramer and Sean tag along with the big guys and try to keep up. When the kids go to their kid place, leaving the adults alone, either Tony Kramer or Kirsten Kramer will say, ‘It’s great how they get along. They just pick up where they left off last time.?
On this night the children gallivanted off to the basement. For background noise, the male part of the unnamed-to-protect-their-identity couple started the Disney classic movie, Bambi.
The children played downstairs while upstairs the adults carried on meaningful and deep conversations. The women debated the merits of starting a competitive laundry league as a way to lure men into washing clothes. The women talked about whether or not Arizona Senator John McCain would run for president in 2008. They speculated on the rumor that US Vice President Dick Cheney would ‘retire? because of health problems sometime in the middle of President Bush’s second term. My own dear Jennie joked with the other gals on how she needed her own column to run next to my Don’t Rush Me column. Her’s would tell how things really happened — a balance to my obviously flawed and skewed reporting.
We men sipped our drinks and grunted a lot. Like I said, things were going swimmingly — until about 9:30 when the doorbell rang. With the best view of the front door, I was first to observe, ‘It’s the cops!?
Was there an accident?
Did one of our vehicles roll out of the driveway?
What were the brown suited county deputies doing at the front door?
‘Good evening,? the first of the three strapping deputies said. ‘We had a couple of 9-1-1 calls from this address. We tried to call back, but couldn’t get through.?
Really . . . nobody upstairs made any phone calls.
‘Kids, get up here,? all adult Kramers and Rushs said in unison. ‘Deputies, please step inside and explain what 9-1-1 calls are for.?
When the children bounded upstairs to see what the commotion was (not because their parental units had called) their eyes grew big, their expressions grew slack. Shamus Rush ran to Jennie and started to get emotional. The very sad little Lauren Kramer ran to Mother Kramer. Alex Kramer stayed close to Father Kramer. Sean Rush, looked on impatiently. (I think he was put off by ‘coppers? the play-time interruption.)
Before the deputies could explain their presence, all kids blurted, ‘I didn’t do it!?
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The deputies were great (I didn’t get their names, but Sheriff Bouchard should feel good about their professionalism). They were firm, but didn’t scare the kids. I think the young Kramers and Rushs will long remember that evening and not make any more prank 9-1-1 calls. As for the adults, I think we learned kids listen a lot closer when they’re talked to by big police officers . . . and maybe, just maybe we can find a way to play the law enforcement trump card in the future . . .