No Cameras Allowed

I can't believe I am going to blog today about going to another government agency. Seems like we've been to more than you can shake a stick at. (DON'T shake sticks at govt. agencies post 9-11). The kids did not take the news well. Kiki had grand plans to invite her new friend over and play in the backyard. Greyson was going bike riding, and Tristan and Sawyer couldn't wait to get out and get dirty.
Instead the day went something like this-
"Sawyer we get to go bye-bye today!" I offered cheerfully.
"Where are we going?"
"The US Consulate."
"Where? What are we going to do there?" he asked.
At this point, Kiki piped up because she had already been given the bad news by Daddy. "Sawyer, I know your future and it's not good."
"Kiki!" I scolded.
"Everyone thought we were going to have fun today, and now we get to be tortured to death," she added.
(What happened to all my teaching on having a grateful spirit?)
Sawyer rejoined the conversation with, "Mom, are we going to go sit-there?"
At least he knows what we do. Go, and sit-there. For hours.

I thought going to the US Consulate was reserved for movie characters and people in big fat trouble. Turns out, it's also for little home school families that need to get passports. There are no markings on the building so you only know what it is if you have the address. Once inside things get very serious. A sign reads: No physical or verbal abuse of any kind will be tolerated. Sets the tone. One guard lets you in the street door, three other guards greet you behind the bulletproof glass. Then it kind of mimics the airport with the metal detectors and the wands. Just gravity squared.
I was hoping to capture some of it on film for you. No chance. They confiscated anything electronic and held it until our appointment was over. Couldn't even take a picture of us leaving on the sidewalk outside. So I offer this picture of the lunch we had afterward to celebrate.
No more government appointments. Yay!

They look normal enough, but I can't help but wonder what all this screening-and paperwork-and guards-and holding areas have done to their little brains. Oh well. My children may not be prepared for algebra but they can tell you the difference between the US Consulate and the US Embassey. And they're dern tootin' ready for martial law.