This afternoon I had to go to the Passport office to get my one year old (Q) a passport.  Now, he doesn’t actually need one, but I’m doing it anyway – mostly because I had thought he needed one and had already gotten the photos done.

So, he and I set off in the late afternoon.  Late afternoon on a Friday.  To the passport office.  An hour before it closed.  Good timing, mommy!  Talk about a recipe for disaster.

Once there, we waited for close to an hour (which is an eternity in the life of a toddler).   He got restless really fast.  Lucky for me, I had a stray bottle cap (he hasn’t even used a bottle in about 6 months) and the lid to a Tupperware.  Insisting the cap was a “ball,” he threw it clear across the room. Way to think ahead, mommy! 
Add ingredient to recipe for disaster.  Shake.

Finally, our number was called and I was saved by a nice man named John (so I thought).  At the moment I reached the counter, Q decided that he’s had enough of the stroller and started screeching (that his new thing; we’re so proud).  Panicking, I took him out and held him. 
Add ingredient to recipe for disaster. Shake.

After about 5 minutes of distraction, John informed me that Q’s picture has been rejected because it appears that he is “glowing.” How angelic.  I have to get new ones and go back.  Then, John added “you can just bring the pictures when you come back.  You don’t need to bring him.”  Ouch.  Burn.

Repeat tomorrow.