Officer John

It has been brought to my attention that my future nephew (do they really become a ‘nephew’ when they marry your niece, or just the ‘dude who married your niece’?) has become an officer in some form of law enforcement. Details are sketchy; my sister was trying to break it to me slowly to avoid panic.

At first glance, this appears to have all the makings of a very unfortunate situation. I have thought about it long and hard. Is he just trying to intimidate me so I don’t go to the wedding? Is he afraid I will wreck the event like I did that other wedding? Is he afraid the Four Younger Siblings and Their Much Older Sister are past their prime and their performance will be lackluster?

First, let it be known that the statute of limitations has passed on every crime I have ever committed in the state of Utah. (Obviously, I haven’t been to Utah in a significant period of time.) So John, dragging my sorry old ass into headquarters will not be a feather in your cap. Your supervisor will not be amused. And don’t think you’re going to trick me into crossing the state line into Arizona. I’m too wily for that ploy.

Second, that unfortunate situation at the other wedding wasn’t entirely my fault. I don’t feel that I should be forced to shoulder the undivided blame. There was no outward sign that the future in-laws were so hyper-sensitive. How was I to know that the whole affair would blow up into a major incident? But think about it for a moment. If you forget about the trip to the emergency room, the bitter name-calling and the broken Ming vase, it was really quite funny.

So, Officer John, your attempts to daunt me will not work. Don’t think your newfound authority will cause me to cower in the corner. I will not be browbeaten. I will stand tall and proud, if not totally obnoxious.

Oh, and congratulations. (And give the Doctor a hug for me.)