My latest mail looks like this:

Red means stop.  I know this, I promise you.  This is also my first moving violation ever, in my entire life.  The only thing I have to say for myself is that I wasn’t paying attention – which probably is not a good thing to admit when I was operating a 4500 lb moving vehicle.  I can just see my court date now:

***

JUDGE:  Are you aware that you made a left turn on red?

ME:  Yes… I am now.

JUDGE:  You don’t deny it?

ME:  No, it’s too much work.

JUDGE:  What do you have to say for yourself?

ME:  I was sleepy.

JUDGE:  Maybe you shouldn’t drive when you are so sleepy.

ME:  Then I wouldn’t be here today, sir.

JUDGE:  Were you sleeping at the wheel?

ME:  No.  But I was groggy… delirious, really.  The infant… with the just getting over colic… no sleep… four months of no sleep… the preschooler… always with the waking at the 5 am… the pee pee… the pee pee in the bed and the waking up… and the nursing… nursing all the time… my boobs are -

JUDGE:  I get it, you were tired.

ME:  And distracted.

JUDGE:  Distracted?  What were you doing?

ME:  Singing Where Is Thumbkin.

JUDGE:  I’m afraid I’ll have to throw the book at you.

ME:  I’m afraid I won’t catch it.

***

This doesn’t look good for me, friends.  Sure, I thought about just denying it altogether, but those damn traffic cameras…

"Where is Thumbkin? Where is Thumbkin? Here I am. Here I am."

It’s settled.  I need a chauffer.