23 April 2005

I'm Not Into Your Passport Picture, I Just Like Your Nose

The old lady is going to Germany for two weeks. I tried to get time off so I could accompany her, but due to work commitments , I can't go -- just like when she went to Japan and England and my boss at the time was an asshole and wouldn't give me time off. But I digress.

We keep our passports in a lockbox, which I hide because I'm squirrelly like that. Last night she says, "Get my passport out so I know where it is." I retrieved the lockbox and opened it. Naturally, my passport was there; hers was not.

So we spent three hours last night tearing our house apart, to no avail. In desperation, we Googled "U.S. passports" and it looked as if my wife would have to drive up to Chicago and pay an "emergency" fee to get a new passport made. By that point, it was past 1 a.m. We hit the hay.

When I woke up to go to work, my wife seemed awful damn chipper: Turns out she remembered that she had used her passport for ID purposes somewhere and she finally remembered where it was. It was a tremendous relief that she located it... but I still wanted to strangle her, just a little bit.

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