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I have quite a few kids. I may have alluded to the fact that sometimes life brings the unexpected. Understatement. Have you noticed that sometimes you do things and think, "Well, now, THAT wasn't on my bucket list?" And the next thought may just be, "and I hope to never do it again."

This happened exactly as I am going to explain it. One of the darlings (and, yes, they may report that I call them hooligans) came in the house one sunny summer morning to report that his bicycle was no longer where he left it. This did not concern me greatly because this person and his possessions often became displaced from one another.

Did this trait follow him into adulthood? I have promised not to tattle on my family, but let's just say a remote key/wallet/shoe/sunglass finder would make a fabulous Christmas gift for him.

A few hours later it was apparent that his bike had been stolen. This made for an unhappy mom and an unhappier son. Life goes on. I needed to run some errands, so I loaded the darling children into the car so we could take care of business.

We stopped at a light as we left our subdivision and found ourselves behind a police car. A police car with a bicycle sticking out of the trunk. The police car made a right turn. We were heading that way as well. All of a sudden bikeless boy yells, "Mom, that is my bike." It did look familiar, but I was faced with a number of dilemmas at this point.

Problem 1

I am driving behind the police car. I do not have red-and-blue flashing lights to get his attention and request that he pull over. I do not have a bullhorn with me. Usually my voice is loud enough to get anyone to listen. Tailgating him does not seem like a wise choice. Speeding around him and then stopping fast in order to get him to stop does not seem in my best interest.

Please think about this for a moment.

How would you get his attention?

Problem 2

Of course, I have no paperwork showing this is my son's bike. I have not filed a police report. Let me be candid here. Even if I did still have the paperwork confirming ownership of said bike, I would not have it with me and am quite sure it may have taken a week or three to locate it at home.

What to do? I did what any red-blooded American mom with a passel of kids does. I followed the patrol car. Yes, I did. At a safe distance and five miles under the speed limit. I did not drive aggressively. I was asking myself how far he could be going. And I determined it probably WAS a stolen bike in his trunk, which he most likely was taking to the bike impound center or wherever stuff like that goes. It seemed unlikely that he loaded his own bike into the back of the police car that morning thinking he may have car trouble that day. I failed to mention that I am a very logical person, but I'm sure you have figured that out by now.

Back to my story. As luck would have it, my friendly police officer was probably thirsty because he turned into a convenience store parking lot. Of course, I followed him. I did park a respectful distance away. However, he did not exit his vehicle immediately but was watching me in his rear view mirror.

When he did get out of his car, he was kind of looking our way. I certainly didn't want to startle him, but I also couldn't leave the group of children unattended so I rolled down my window and politely said, "Hello. Excuse me. Hello." Or something equally as exciting. He approached my car, and I told him that my son's bike had been stolen and we believed it was the one in his trunk. He was somewhat suspicious but asked if we had any paperwork to verify this or if we had filed a police report. I said no, but then my brown-eyed wonder shouted, "It has an orange piece of yarn tied around it."

Who does that?

The officer walked to the trunk, looked at the spot where the orange piece of yarn was attached (not visible from where we sat). Sure as shootin,' that was our bike. He took it out of the trunk and told us to have a nice day. He said we saved him a lot of paperwork, and he was appreciative.

So ends the saga of a seemingly ordinary happening.

Have you ever chased down a police car and, if so, how did that work for you?

- Cindi Labadie

Cindi Labadie, mom to five and wife to one, blogs at "Seemingly Ordinary."