My father can prove that I was born! And a citizen! Look out Canada!
J and I had many many manic moments this past week looking for the envelope that I (BRILLIANTLY!) put every single important document in. Our birth certificates, marriage certificate, social security cards, etc. It is in the house. SOMEWHERE. Possibly in this house in another dimension?
But Daddy rescued me by having a backup in his safe deposit box. I mean, they let us through customs on both sides of the border on Friday. And the guy on the US side was nice enough, even though we got a mini-lecture about how we need to prove that we are citizens. But it was enough to give me chills about us getting stuck on the Canada for a few hours in the middle of the night.
So that won't be happening now.
And I won't even have to flash my boobs at anyone with a gun!
Which is great . . . I guess. I mean a little disappointing of course.
My house is not clean. I mean it isn't filthy but I did imagine having it a little more done before she visited. However, my sister and I shared a room before she is aware that I am basically a pig with thumbs.
Nothing is going to shock her in other words.
Though I suppose I could try.
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