Pistol Packing Mama

One night when I dropped in at the police station on my news beat, a large, efficient-looking woman in uniform who packed a service revolver at her waist was behind the sergeant’s desk. After checking the blotter, I returned to the car, where my wife was waiting for me. “You should see the new woman on the force,” I said. “She’s huge, and wearing a .38.”

I didn’t notice the silence until my wife broke it icily with, “I wear a 38.”