"P" is Po Po
Po Po as in Police.
I have actually called the police on several occasions.
One time was to have my husband arrested because I was in such excruciating pain while delivering HIS baby. "The Po Po is coming to get you buddy. Make Nooooo mistake about it!"
Another time was when a near-do-well walked right into my garage and stole my husband’s bicycle. I drove up and down every street in the "hood" until I found the bike.
I gave the thug fair warning "Give me back my husband’s bike or I.. Will.. Call.. The.. Po Po!"
The thug said “My friend gave me that bike.”
When the Po Po came I told the officer I had the serial numbers engraved in the under carriage of the bike. The officer looked at the bike... and then at my serial numbers... and "Whup there it is, Whup Whup there it is!"
I did the jiggy dance and told that thug "I told you I would call the Po Po. Don’t EVER mess with me again!"
Uh huh I’m bad. Yes that’s right "Bad to the Bone!" (Did I tell you both the thug and the officer were a good six feet tall? I on the other hand am only five feet tall, but, when I want to, I can stretch to six feet tall!)
The officer gave me back my husband’s bike.
We no longer live in that neighborhood. My husband said he worried for my safety. I said "No worries…I had back up!"
The Po Po.