I always get a chuckle out of that saying. It’s true, there is ‘something’ about a man or woman in uniform and a lot of it is very nice.
To this day I love seeing my husband in his Class A’s and yes, he instantly looks like a marinated pork chop to me, but let’s get real about that uniform and all that comes with it, shall we? Insert humor, truth and sarcasm below...
1. The stank of Kevlar in the summer
I have a love-hate relationship with Kevlar. The sound of Velcro before his shift is like some whack punch in the gut. It lasts just a second, but it’s that 12 hours of pending worry that instantly kicks back in as I say that little prayer that he makes it home. At the end of shift, that same sound of Velcro has a whole new meaning – he’s safe, he’s home, you can breathe. Then, in about mid-May in Oklahoma, when he starts Lake Patrol for the summer, every encounter with Kevlar comes with a side-kick. STANK.
What the hell is that smell? I’ll tell you what it is. It’s a combo of lake water, fuel, oil, weed, meth, drunken vomit, piss, cheap beer, BBQ, camp fire and cop sweat.
After 12 hours, that coveted layer between life and death is RATCHET! And out comes the vinegar/Febreeze or whatever method every police wife has of her own to eliminate it before it permeates the sheetrock. Love-hate...the struggle is real.
2. Cop Poop
Oh yeah, I went there. Let’s face it, there are a few kind of cops. The judo-ninja-Crossfit-workout-freak – typically the newer boys/gals in blue, the newly divorced, or the ones who really just piss me off, because they’re who we all should be. They eat right, they exercise, they look good, yada, yada...I don’t know about their poop, but I assume Dr. Oz would tell them it’s exactly as it should be.
Then there’s the standard cop...tries to get home to eat a real meal, but always ends up arm-cranking a dumbass five minutes before he goes 10-7, ends up four hours late, starving and in the Micky Dee’s drive thru. And then, let’s just own it shall we... there’s the donuts. Now, my husband loves him a good donut, just as much as he loves bacon; however, he knows when to back away from the buffet before there’s a foot pursuit gone bad with extreme embarrassment.
Regardless of which type they are, they almost all have the same common issue – the duty belt. Pooping on duty seems to be the equivalent of un-assing yourself from astronaut gear. Then there’s the pooping in public factor, there’s really no good way to go about it so most cops just initiate the “Poop Hold”... until they bring it home and unleash it upon us.
There are no words. You know who you are. Cop wives across America should get a free pass to heaven based on cop poop tolerance alone.
3. Cop Gear
Now, some have lockers, I’ve heard. Mine isn’t one of them. Therefore I, like many spouses of officers, have the joys of cop gear. From vests, to carriers, keepers and magazines, to hats and gloves and knives and holsters and cartridges and under armor and training gear and Class A, B, C’s, and that damn rubber shirt gripper that will snap you like the monster of all rubber bands if you ever help hold his shirt down. Yes...cop gear.
Luckily I’ve got the OCD cop who has a designated closet for it all. I heard from plenty of spouses who just set the salad bowl right in the middle of the duty belt on the table – resigned to the presence of the cop gear as decor.
4. Cop Exhaustion
I shaved my legs for you asshole! Alright, alright, you worked a 12, plus an extra four, and a jackhole made you chase him. I get it. I really do. But I shaved my legs – I’m just saying. And, he snores before he notices.
LEO spouses everywhere have stared lovingly yet angrily at their sleeping LEO after they have made it home safe, then instantly crashed. You all typically make up for it, so we deal.
5. Non-Existent Holidays and Special Occasions
We all know this drill. I won’t even bother except to say, we adapt and most times family and friends don’t get it. Know how many times I’ve shaved my legs on my anniversary? I’ll just leave that right there.
6. What the What Did He Just Say?
There are plenty of exciting days on duty and most of those days will not get talked about as they’d rather be buried. It’s not the bad calls that we spouses like to remember, but there’s definitely always going to be the moments of “you can’t make this shit up”. Nothing like a text popping up on your phone while you’re sitting at a lunch meeting:
“Gonna be a late one, there’s no hookers anywhere!”
Or getting those calls/texts about a naked drunk dude on top of a street sign, cows on the loose, a snake in a toilet, hoarder barricaded with cats, deer inside the 7-11. For me, personally, I’m glad he can still laugh a little.
7. Stranger DNA and Contamination
Nothing good can come from those texts.
“Blood. Not mine. Trash bag in the garage please.”
“Going to city garage on the way home, asshole puked in the cage.”
“Needle prick, call me.”
And the one that made me want to go throat punch a perp myself:
“Meth exposure, we walked right into it after it exploded. Asshole left his wife in there to burn.”
Yes...the only thing worth holding onto after those moments is your LEO.
Just a few of oh so many things about that uniform and all that comes with it. If you told me then what I know now, I’d marry him all over again. It’s more than the uniform, it’s the life that comes along with someone willing to do for others before they do for themselves. Some days, you just have to laugh a little and be thankful for it...stank, poop and all.
