A big dude like me doesn't usually have much luck in getting out of a traffic ticket. So when the Georgia Highway Patrol officer pulled me over Friday night, it looked like another addition to my inglorious track record.

I must admit, I was flustered. We'd just stopped for the third time in less than two hours, attempting to appease Avery so she'd sleep the rest of the way to Charleston, with limited success. In the midst of her screams, I'd failed to get out of the right lane, away from the traffic stop in progress, replete with flashing lights and officer waving me over, before two cars bumrushed me on the left and boxed me in. So she wasn't the only one upset when said officer jumped back in his car and chased me down.

"Care to explain why you didn't move away from my traffic stop back there?" he barked over my daughter's wails. Apparently, this is a law. I'm glad I'm not taking driver's ed now; I'd bring home a big fat F.

I apologized for my inability to act, explained the situation, and handed over my license and insurance information. He walked away from the car for maybe thirty seconds, then came back to the window and handed my stuff back.

"For future reference," he said, "you need to get to the left when you see a traffic stop. We enforce that very vigorously in Georgia, and it's a five hundred dollar ticket. I didn't see that you couldn't get over, but if that happens, at least slow down. Don't let it happen again."

Note to self: Next time I am pulled over, make sure to have a screaming child in the back seat. I love pity.