Bad Troopers, No Donuts!

Some of you may not know, but my husband is a Washington State Trooper. I'm very proud of him and his career but sometimes it gives me heartburn.

When a Trooper is killed in the line of duty, it is the responsibility of fellow Troopers to inform his family (yeah, I know there are female Troopers. But in my life it's a He.). Two Troopers are dispatched to relay the unhappy news. One Trooper means injury. Seeing two Troopers in my driveway is never a good sign, and yet twice now I've been scared witless.

Hubby worked a day shift yesterday, starting at 6 a.m., scheduled to be off on 4 p.m. At 3:15 my dogs starting running around all excited like they do when daddy gets home. It was too early and I thought it was odd. I looked out the kitchen window and my stomach sank. I saw hubby's Sergeant. Hat in hand, he looked like he was waiting for another Trooper to walk up the drive.

At this point I got tunnel vision. I don't remember anything except the thought of getting to the door while a million things went through my mind...the first one being "Oh Sh*t!".

I threw the door open and there standing on my doorstep is my husband. I was SO ticked. Not because I was mad that he wasn't actually dead, mind you. But because this is the second time that I've been scared out of my mind by the appearance of Troopers. (The other time, there were two Trooper cars in my driveway when I wasn't expecting it...it was just hubby and another guy for lunch!)

I of course cursed and his sergeant started laughing and said, "See, I told you you should have called." Damn right he should have. I was so ticked off that he scared me so badly. Apparently there was something wrong with his car and his sarge had to drop him off.

I pray to God that there is never a day when I actually do find two Troopers on my doorstep. One would be bad enough, but two would kill me.