We have an appointment next week to submit Archie and Rissie’s passport applications. There has been a little confusion with the whole passport issue as they could not get their head around what they are for. Because we had plane tickets Archie was under the impression that we did not need to do anything else (if only life were that simple). So he was getting very frustrated with the whole idea of them. Due to his confusion I decided not to add visas and letters of consent into the mix. I would have only done that if I was feeling really mean and wanted to stir him up a bit. I am currently exercising as much patience as I can as I have to realise that upping and leaving everything we know for 12 months is a really big deal for them, as well as for me. So when they ask questions over and over again and Rissie’s voice starts quavering as she addresses an issue of concern or Archie starts hyper-ventilating as he asks me to explain why we need passports for the fifth time in 10 minutes I am trying not to get as frustrated as I might normally. I finally came up with the analogy that just like I need a Driver’s Licence to drive, we all need a passport to travel – it is like a Driver’s Licence to go from country to country.
He seemed happy with that and they were both keen to see mine. Now let’s get one thing right – there is a nasty passport god in the sky who is bitter, twisted and probably an ice addict and he gets his kick in strange ways because he is an arsehole. One of his biggest kicks was somehow coming up with the idea that you are not allowed to smile when you get your passport photo taken. He got another kick out of ensuring that passport photo cameras take the worst photos in the world. Mine is particularly ugly. I look like a serial killer. I am well aware of the fact it is not a flattering photo but I was not quite ready for Archie’s response when he looked at it. His first words were, “Oh mummy – that is hideous.” I actually did a double take and had to check with him what he had said. He looked at me and said again, “Sorry mummy that is hideous.”
I heard correctly the first time. Hideous is a really strong word. The problem was I couldn’t really pick him up on it either because it was true. The nasty little cretin. “Hideous?” I asked in a hurt voice. “Yep,” said Rissie “it’s hideous.” That child would not pick up on a hurt expression if it hit her between her eyeballs like a cup of cold sick, but Archie was getting a bit anxious and he looked at me and said “You’re not hideous mummy. So I am not hurting your feelings, but that photo is hideous.” I actually had to ask them if they had learnt a new word at school that week because they kept on repeating it. Hideous. Hideous. But it is true. My passport photo is truly hideous. Now I am even more aware of how awful my photo is, I know without a doubt that when I approach any immigration counter I will break one of the golden rules – do not make small talk and do not make jokes. It makes you look like a nervous drug dealer. So when they ask me if I have anything to declare I am probably going to be inclined to say in a really foolish way something like, “nothing but a really bad passport photo……” to try to alert them to the fact that my photo is really, really bad and does not even begin to reflect my sunny disposition. My bad joke will result in a long cold stare from some officious immigration person whilst I start to sweat and worry compulsively if Rissie has smuggled any contraband in without me knowing. And I know that as they stamp my passport they will probably be thinking something along the lines of “that is one hideous fuckwit”.
It’s simply hideous. Thanks Archie and Rissie for stating the obvious.
The kids are at a school social and I am enjoying a very rare evening hour of no kids. I threw some oranges in this smoothie as I did not feel like Almond Milk. It was an unexpected treat. Simply delicious. It reminded me of a Splice for some reason – it would be perfect with vodka and Bacardi added to it. As I sat sipping my super special smoothie in my kid free house, I began to feel a little less hideous.
Orange Splice Smoothie
A meal in a glass for one
2 Oranges – peeled and quartered and then cut in half again
1 Frozen Banana – sliced
½ cup raw cashew nuts
1 cup frozen mango
Put all ingredients into a blender and blend until smooth and creamy. Drink with vodka if your day has been hideous.