Monday morning and this post is not being written from the courthouse. Hallelujah!
Per instructions, I called to check the status of my jury summons last night and they said we weren’t needed this week. Either that or someone at the courthouse Googled “Harrison county jury duty,” found my post as the 2nd result, and decided that any outcome resembling this latest comment from Deb on the Rocks would not work for them:
“If it looks like a close call, raise your hand and ask the judge at what point the whole case will be bloggable, and if it is okay if you use Twitter on your breaks. That might do it.”
I was planning to add, “When can I call my attorney husband to check on the law? Because this sounds sketchy… And did I mention I need to go to the bathroom again? …yes, I know I just went 10 minutes ago… Um, can someone check on my kids? I left them in the car… yes, with the windows rolled down. This isn’t Alabama.”
And let’s not forget this thankful tweet I sent out earlier:
You were truly a helpful bunch. If Google has any sense of humor, my last post will become the top result for “ways to get out of jury duty for pregnant stay-at-home mothers with loud mouths and impatient bladders.”
*voir dire: (vwär dîr') n. A preliminary examination of prospective jurors or witnesses under oath to determine their competence or suitability.
…which always reminds me of My Cousin Vinny. Since I couldn’t find the “voir dire” scene, this one will do just fine. It is precisely how I pictured my own voir dire.
Which then reminds me of when my brother once asked his best friend Robbie if he’d seen “My Cousin Vinny.” Robbie’s response: “I haven’t met any of your family.”
I love Robbie.