The Police Motorcycle.
I was tooling up 71 at 59 in a 45 when Ponch flipped the lights and pulled me over. Apparently John was off for the day or prepping his truck for a desert race or something. Regardless, he trimmed it back to 50, wrote a ticket and sent me on my way. I think I'm supposed to be thankful.
The Tone of the Judge
We went to Family Court today for Zoe's adoption finalization. I assumed this was a slam dunk legal maneuver and wasn't quite ready for the judge to ask a lot of hard questions while neglecting to look through the file. At one point, he was saying "I can't finalize this as is...maybe they should redo the whole thing in Nevada....". Whaaaaaaaat? At that point, I remembered what Mike Bickle has said a hundred times - "The prayer room is the governmental center of the universe...." and I began to govern in earnest.
The Pointed Questions of my Attorney
Once the hearing began, we were swore in and our attorney started asking the basic questions - name, address, etc. Then all of a sudden, out of the blue, came the bombs.
- "Are you confident you can provide for this little girl as you would a naturally born child?"
- "Are you telling this court that you will be a father to this little girl, caring for her physical and emotional needs, no matter what?"
- "Are you willing to accept full responsibility for this little girl, adopting her as one of your very own."
Here are a few shots of the microparty we through for Zoe tonight...