Next thing I know, I turn around and he\u2019s full-on chatting up two California Highway Patrol officers by a table near the front entrance like they\u2019re his long-lost uncles.<\/p>\n
I panicked at first, ready to apologize for him bothering them, but before I could even step in, one of the officers crouched down to his level and handed him a shiny sticker badge.<\/p>\n
My son puffed out his chest like he\u2019d just been promoted. Started asking about their walkie-talkies, what the buttons did, and\u2014this part I\u2019ll never forget\u2014whether they \u201ceat donuts or just save them for emergencies.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Both officers burst out laughing. One of them, Officer Raynor, looked at me and said, \u201cYou\u2019ve got a future detective here.\u201d<\/p>\n
I smiled awkwardly. \u201cYeah, or a very persistent negotiator.\u201d<\/p>\n
What was supposed to be a five-minute errand turned into a full thirty minutes of my son sitting on a bench, legs swinging, hanging on every word these officers said. He asked about their patrol car, whether they ever caught \u201cbad guys with banana peels,\u201d and even offered them a bite of the granola bar he had in his pocket. (I intervened on that one.)<\/p>\n
Eventually, I thanked them and said we had to go. They both told him to \u201cstay out of trouble, Deputy,\u201d and handed him a little CHP coloring book and junior officer card before we left.<\/p>\n
I thought that would be the end of it.<\/p>\n
But the next day, as I was packing his lunch, he asked, \u201cCan we go to the bank again? I need to show them my drawing.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n