I thought we had reached an agreement. We gave you five members and five million hours of our family's life last term. In return, you were supposed to go easy on these last two.
|Ian and Alec with their I.D. card applications|
But you see, I don't find spending the entire night in a line outdoors "going easy." Nor trips to pick up promised documentation only to have to return the next business day to stand in line again.
Even so, I thought we could leave it in the past. Just one more document to go this year (no sense borrowing trouble for next year, when we start all over!)
So I answered when you called last week. I went to pick up, only to have to re-do. Then I traipsed five emotional, hungry children all the way from the airport south of town to the office north of town yesterday, only to find doors locked and a posted sign announcing a strike. I marched those same five emotional, hungry children several long blocks to the notary's office to wait an hour for additional documentation in anticipation of what you would request today, just so our trip would not be wasted.
And then today. I took three boisterous boys back to your crowded (thankfully open) offices. And for what? To have one take a very public, very painful fall on the hard cement outside. To have two make a scene wrestling under the counters. And to be told that the promised document had not arrived.
Dear trámites, you don't play fair. But we're not going away. You can wait us out; you can wear us down; but you can't weaken our resolve. See you next week ...