Jury Duty

In February, we received a blue form summoning us to jury duty.

“Oh boy!” Moonie shouted, excited to serve his civic duty.

Oh boy, indeed.

We showed up along with lots and lots of other people – so many that the shuttle bus had to promise to come back for the rest of us. Then we arrived at Superior Court, where security guards had to run my pocketbook through the X-ray machine three times because of “suspicious noises.”

(“What was that about?” I asked Moonie when I was finally handed my bag. “Were you giggling?”
“Well, it tickled!” Moonie retorted.)

We then took this very pretty elevator to the 4th floor jury lounge.


Moonie enjoyed the court’s long hallways, perfect for the pitter-patter of teeny troll feet.

the long bum of the law

the long bum of the law

We spent long hours each day in the juror’s lounge. Moonie couldn’t stop giggling over the booklet we had been given. It was titled, “Why me?”, which made being selected for jury duty sound like the world’s worst punishment.

Moonie, of course, had a ball, chatting with the other jurors, peeking at televisions and magazines, and oohing and aahing over the contents of vending machines. He also loves getting badges!


We took an oath – yes, even Moonie’s squeaky little voice recited the words – about keeping any court details confidential, so we’re not saying a word about any cases. We will reserve our excitement for this windy spiral staircase, which echoed with Moonie’s “Whee!” as he ran down.


When we’d completed our duty in March, we were informed we wouldn’t need to serve again for three years. But this is Rhode Island, where silly things sometimes happen, so just a few weeks later I received yet another blue jury summons form.

“Oh boy!” Moonie shouted, prancing around waving the form.

“Oh, brother,” I groaned.

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