The Boy Who Cries Wolf

I own a cute little blackberry phone. I hear it does many a cool tricks and has lots of amazing features. Alas, it is mostly wasted on me, as I can barely figure out how to make a phone call, let alone send a text. My youngest son however has mastered the thing. Friday, I was at my parents house, dropping my sister off after she arrived unexpectedly with her infant son on a flight from DC. Marci never one to miss a party, flew in last minute for my Mom's birthday this last weekend. My children were restless after waiting at the airport for more than an hour for Marci's delayed flight and were very happy to be out of the car and free. Once at my parents, Greyson took my phone out of my purse, he was grouchy and without a nap so I just let him have it, I knew it was locked up tight and therefore was just happy he was distracting himself for a change. It was about 10 minutes later I realized I hadn't seen the little red headed monster around lately, I rarely let him out of my sight, for when I do, trouble usually follows quickly. I found him in the guest bedroom hiding under the bed talking on my phone. How he figured out how to make it work while it was locked is beyond me, but at the time I didn't really think much about it and just took it from his grubby little hands and hit END to end whatever buttons he had managed to push. It was all of two seconds later that my phone rings, "This is 911 Dispatch, did you just call 911?" I quickly apologized and explained that my two year old had called accidentally, she took my name, address, location and made me repeat twice that we were all OK and declining medical or police help. I was just wrapping up my phone call with 911 when my call waiting beeped, I clicked over as soon as I finished with the Dispatcher. "Hello this is the County Sheriff calling, do you need help?" Oh, I'm dying now, while glaring at my grinning little red head, I explain the whole situation over again, apologizing again. Apparently the County Sheriff is a little more serious about their emergency calls, she required my exact location, name of the child involved, she asked me if I was answering under duress, does being fuming mad at your kid count? I'm spelling out my last name for the second time H...A...L when she explained that they would probably have to have to send an officer to the house just to verify that there was in fact a two year old and everyone else was OK. "Fine" I told her, "no problem" I can definitely produce a two year old....in fact I can produce TWO! Long story short, the police never came, Greyson has lost his phone privileges for the time being and I'm pretty sure I'm on that list of bad mommies at 911 dispatch, I hope I don't need them for real anytime soon.