Fight Fire With Fire

(It is Father’s Day a couple years back. I am living with my dad and my brother is coming from out of town as a surprise. The gas grill my dad has been using actually blows up while he is using it and we have to call the fire department. Everything is safe by then, but I am uploading pictures to Facebook. My brother, after he makes it in half an hour faster than he should, walks in and says:

Brother:  “I’ve got the best story EVER for why I’m late.”

Me: “Go on.”

Brother: “So I was looking at all the pictures of the grill on fire and the firefighters at the house you tagged me in. I was apparently speeding and got stopped right before the exit I needed. No crap; when I rolled down my window, the first thing out of the cop’s mouth was, ‘Son, where’s the fire?’ I cracked up so hard I was crying. I think the cop thought that I was drunk until I asked him if I could please show him my phone because I had the best answer for him. He stepped back from the car, probably thinking I was going to pull something else. I showed him your pictures of the grill and said, the fire’s at my dad’s house. Even the firemen are there right now.’ He just stared at me, got on his radio and asked a couple questions, got his answer, and said to me, “I can’t give you a ticket, son, because that was the best damn answer I’ve ever been given. Slow down and have a nice day.”