DH had obligations up in Oklahoma this weekend, and I had a six-hour drive towards the Houston area for something else, so I took Benjamin and Tater-Tot with me to take care of my commitments.
In TX, there are certain towns where everyone knows you don't speed. Reagan, Calvert, Hearne... you don't go a mile over the posted speed limit unless you want to invite someone to pull you over.
My path took me down through Calvert (passed three speed traps there) and Hearne (another four speed traps) late Friday night. But I was on cruise control and paying attention and behaving, so no worries.
I pass all the way through Hearne, and there's a McDonald's there on the far side of town. And I've been thinking the last few McD's I've passed, "Hmmm, a cherry pie sounds nice." But it was never a convenient place to stop. This time, though, I felt really compelled to pull over. "Hmmm, a cherry pie sounds nice, DOESN'T IT?" And at the same time, I'm thinking to myself, "What's up with this? I have zero desire for a cherry pie! I'm almost where I need to be. Why stop here?" And that little internal voice said again, "A CHERRY PIE would be NICE RIGHT NOW!" So I pull over, place my order for a cherry pie I don't really want, and pull in to wait for my order to be ready.
I haven't been off the road for a minute when a motorcycle goes screaming down my road at top speed. It's got four police cars close on its tail. And I was very, very grateful that my babies and I had moved out of the path of a high-speed police chase.
It turned out they were out of cherry pie, btw. They asked me if I wanted to try peach. It was burned. But burned pie was okay with me.