The survival of my 18 yr. old is a tribute to the L.A.P.D.
She packed up her clothes in trash bags, bungie corded them onto her mustang and took off with a friend for California. She called every day while camping up and down the west coast spending every penny I sent her for hotels, etc on having fun.
After she trading her car meaning I didn't know her tag number, she called crying about having a fender bender somewhere in the greater L.A. area.
When I reufused to pay to get her car repaired and insisted she come home, she hung up on me and didn't call for a week.

I couldn't sleep and was losing my mind with worry. I didn't know if she was just being spoiled or if she had been murdered or was being held hostage or no telling what.
Finally I called the L.A.P.D. They asked where they could get her dental records which really got me nuts.
But that very afternoon, she called from the police department. She was sooo upset. She said, "Mom, don't ever do that again!"

Seems the L.A.P.D. had tracked down the car accident to get her tag number then pulled her over and took her to the station. They handed her a phone, stood over her, and ordered her to "Call your Mother!"

She came home right after that.

I still love the L.A.P.D. When I hear them being harrassed in the media or something, I want to just go out there and give them all a hug.
They do survive!
smile

[ July 22, 2005, 03:26 PM: Message edited by: smilinize ]