Yep that's how my husband's drive home from his mam's went yesterday. My mother-in-law has moved to Devon but was back home in the Midlands for a couple of days so we decided to take advantage and piled the boys into the car and trekked down there from Yorkshire to see Nanny. I drove down in t'husbands lovely, new company car for which I am on the insurance - bonus. After a lovely day, fish and chips and a walk to the park with Nanny we decided it was time to head home with t'husband at the wheel.
I dropped off and woke to find a police car with flashing lights streaking past us, pull in front and slow. This was the following conversation
Me: How fast were you going?
T'husband: Don't jump to conclusions, don't think he's pulling me, I was only doing 73 (t'husband rarely does 73 and was finding he could unsuccessfully pull round the police car as it wouldn't let him).
Me: No, I think he wants you to follow him off the motorway here.
And so the nice [policeman gets out of his car and asks t'husband if it is his car and if he would mind taking a seat in the back of the police car.
The boys found this highly exciting and thought Daddy was being taken to jail.
After what seemed like ages, policeman emerges from the car and lets t'husband out of the back, stands laughing with him, shakes his hand and tells t'husband to have a nice rest of the day.
As t'husband gets back into the car Mini Man asks him if he is going to jail, when t'husband laughs and says No, both mini man and little man are completely disappointed and don't hide it with 'awwhhhh, why not Dad'.
Turns out when the policeman clocked t'husband he was infact doing 93, not 73 (does he think I am stupid?). However as he was only over 90 for a minute or more and then dropped to between 82 and 86 and was driving sensibly he just got a slap on the wrists. How lucky is that?