Can I Help You Officer?

An interesting thing happened today. I was sitting at my computer, changing my "status" on Facebook from yesterday’s “Kashama is having a bad veil day” to “Kashama is studying for an exam” when there was a strong knock at my front door. I glanced over at two of my children who were sitting quietly on the floor building a mosque out of blocks. I wasn't expecting company so I debated whether I'd even open the door (I'm anti-social like this).

I crept over to the peep-hole to...peep. By the way is it really called a "peep" hole or is it a "peek" hole? I mean really, aren't we peeking through a hole? Oh well, anyhoo on the other side of the door stood a rather large sized police officer wearing what appeared to be his uniform from his younger (and slimmer) days on the force.

"Darn! It's the cops, I gotta answer it."
"Hold on a minute!" I shouted through the door to the officer. Then I was off, running frantically through the house searching for my hijab to throw on in order to open the front door. You see, for those who don't already know, I'm a Muslim woman. It is prescribed in the Qur'an, by Allah, for us women to cover our beautiful hair with a scarf and clothe our bodies in modest, loose fitting clothing when in the public eye. So naturally in the house I'm sporting my "hot Momma gear" and looking far too cute for public viewing. And just like when you're ready to leave your home and you get to the door then realize you're missing something. That universal question pops up, "Where are my keys?” the same applies to my "quick grab" hijab. This is supposed to be near the door where I can throw it on hastily in order to answer the door. But nooooooooo it's never where it should be. So as I'm looking in the guest closet (because it should be there), I realize several minutes have gone by and I'm keeping the police waiting at the door, which might look suspicious depending on why he was calling. It's not that I'm guilty of any crime, unless we are going to count petty things such as not updating my driver's license information or parking in disabled parking when I'm 8 months pregnant or for--oh wait, I'm getting distracted again. It’s just that I automatically worry about appearances.

So I went into my bedroom, grabbed a scarf and dress from my closet and went to the front door. I know initially when someone sees me and they aren't expecting to see a veiled woman, there are those few seconds of shock that they are unable or unwilling to hide. I opened the door with my "friendly eyes" on (because eyes are all you'll see) and waited for him to say something. His look of expectation was equally met by my own look of patient waiting. We stood in silence for what seemed at least minute but in reality I know it was probably no more than two maybe three seconds tops. "Yes?” I said to break the unbearable silence. "Someone called 911 from this address and we tried calling back but couldn't get through", he told me. Immediately my focus turned toward my 5 year old son, putting the finishing touches on the minaret of his mosque and he returned my stare with one of guilt and fear. I opened the door wide enough for the officer to see who I was talking to and then asked my son if he’d called 911. He swallowed dryly with his big, brown eyes tearing up and nodded yes.

I apologetically explained to the police officer that just yesterday my son and I had a conversation about calling 911 and when should it be used. He smiled knowingly as if this wasn’t the first time he’d heard this and once more verifying that all was well with us, he left.

Apparently my son was in my bedroom practicing how to dial 911 in an emergency. He dialed the number and then promptly hung up. He hung the phone up incorrectly so when the police tried to call back they got a busy signal. Yesterday I told my son that if we had an emergency and I couldn’t call for help then he would need to know how to dial 911 and get help. I told him that he should dial 911 and explain the emergency so they can send the right help. The only problem was I failed to mention that if you dial the number they will come.
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American Muslima Writer said...


Reminds me of when i dialed the police for fun when i was a kid. I called then hung up real fast and went about my day. A few minutes later the phone rang and my parents talked quietly then hung up and my dad BELLOWED MY NAME.
I got the biggest lecture on calling 911. Apperently they call back too....
YIKES never did that one again....

I could just SEE his guilty eyes!!! hehehe. Poor police waiting all that hijabifying time just for a prank call. HEHEHE.

Good for you to teach him impratant numbers tho.

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Solace In Islam said...

I am sure your son will never forget that number and what it is for again!

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