The "Berges" name...

For years as a kid my family traveled throughout the Great Northwest for weekend getaways or "mini vacations" and we always seemed to run into someone who knew the Berges family, or "knew of" the Berges family, from Kennewick, Washington. It wasn't rare that we'd be walking down a trail near Mt. Rainier National Park or perhaps visiting a small coffee shop in Sandpoint, Idaho, when you'd hear "Dr. Berges!". My Dad would stop (with a shocked look on his face - which ALWAYS surprised me) in an effort to find the person who obviously recognized him. When he met the person's gaze it was followed by a surprised laugh and "the point". He'd then, miraculously, recall their name, follow it with a firm handshake and that would lead into small talk and family introductions.

THIS is the family I've been a part of my whole life... all 29 years of it. I'm now a "Schei" which seems to carry the same weight all the way from California to Washington. I can't say that there's ever been a time when I think to myself, "oh God forbid! HOW do you know who I am?!" It is more likely to be, "oh thank God! I'm so glad I got out of this mess unscathed because you knew my Dad! What a small world!"

Sick. I know. I'm about to make you vomit.

Whilst traveling the Great Northwest for the first time with my THREE children all by myself I was spared once again by the dear Lord Himself, I'm sure of it. Traveling 82mph in a 70mph zone on I-82 just outside of Benton City (see picture above) I caught a glimpse of the State Patrol car on the upcoming overpass... immediately after I caught sight of him he obviously caught sight of me because he moved from his spot so swiftly I began sweating and shaking. Amongst the long line of cars in the right lane, I knew he was coming after ME. No doubt.

After being pulled over I began to pull out my Driver's License as gracefully as possible. To quickly bring you up to date... while I had been traveling behind the 5-6 cars in the right lane going approximately 72-75mph my son calmly alerts me that he has to go potty... bad. He's holding himself and repeating the information. I slide into the passing lane and its at the moment my foot has successfully pushed the pedal to the metal that I notice the "Stater", as I've heard them called before. Horrible timing. And highly excusable, might I add!

Upon being pulled over and the State Patrol officer reaching into my passenger's side window to retrieve from me my licence, my son yells from the rear of the van, "Mom! I need to go potty!" and I calmly, and as assuredly as possible, tell him that I know and he only needs to wait a quick moment longer... the State Patrol officer looks at my license and then with a quizzical look on his face asks, "Are you a "Berges"?" My eyes travel from my son to the officer almost as if in slow motion... you know, you see my eyes shift slowly from one spot to the next with a dramatically slow blink in between... and I'm staring at him, "yes." A question in the intonation. He informs me... as he chuckles... that he played baseball with my older brother, Geoff, and he's a patient of my Dad's. Brian Bond is the name. I immediately picture his parents' faces in my head as I paid close attention to ANYONE of my brothers' friends and acquaintances during my younger years! We make small talk... all the while my son is calling from the rear of the van that he needs to go potty. I'm almost proud of him - he has, without knowing, been a wonderful asset to me getting out of this predicament with less pain... the officer has commented that William reminds him of his 18 month-old son and has inquired as to the "plan of action" I have for getting this kid to the restroom.

My hope is that I am, once again, unduely spared from paying consequences for my actions. I drove away knowing that I won't always be that lucky... or blessed... (sick). But really? Will I not take FULL advantage of it next time?

Honestly, I can't say I mind this. But I will try to be less... uhhh... how do you put it... a "Berges"?