Today is Family Day, a holiday Monday for most folks here in British Columbia and therefore the perfect time to share the chapter presently titled “Parent Trap Threatens Flight” on this Momday Motivations.
But first, a brief explanation for the newbies. I’m writing a memoir about the miraculous changes I underwent during the 10 years spent soldiering alongside my Type A mother in her successful Vancouver Asian antiques and collectibles shop. Miraculous? I think so. In 1983 I went in as a reluctant, dysfunctional Summer sales assistant who knew nothing about Asian antiques and cared for them even less, only to emerge in 1993 as a penny-pinching bookkeeper, confident buyer and rather capable salesperson. Toss in a boss blessed with multiple personas, two murdered customers, an introduction to the chap who’d become my husband, multiple quirky clients, and six overseas buying trips and well, it’s promising to be a fun read.
Parent Trap Threatens Flight
In 1985, Francine generously agreed to give me two days off so I could chaperone my three year-old twin nieces to San Francisco for a reunion with their parents who’d been at a conference in Colorado. The five of us would fly back to Vancouver together four days later.
The girls had never flown before. I love to fly so by the time we got to the airport for our morning flight the three of us were super pumped. I was the quintessential most-fun-ever auntie. Everything was in hand; just a quick preflight zip through US Customs and we’d head for the boarding lounge.
There were at least 35 people ahead of us at Customs but I wasn’t concerned. Ms. A and Ms. C were far too busy swaddling their Cabbage Patch Kids on the tiled floor to notice.
What Written Permission?
The middle-aged, weary-looking gentleman called us up to his booth and I slid my passport along the counter. We transitioned easily through the usual questions concerning the destination and purpose of the trip. As he reached out for the stamp to grant us automatic entry my boarding pass suddenly fluttered onto the counter.
“It says here that you’re flying to San Jose…”
“Yes, their father has arranged for us to take a limo to San Francisco.”
“Are you married to their father?”
My hearty chuckle only caused his eyes to narrow alarmingly.
“How do I know you have permission to take them out of the country?”
I had nothing but the verbal plea from my sister; it had never occurred to me to ask for more. Ms. C chose that moment to pull on my sweater and innocently ask if we were on the plane yet. Bless her, she’d no clue.
“Ma’am, I gonna need confirmation from the parents.”
That was impossible. I had no way to reach my traveling sister; this was years before the advent of cell phones, but clearly someone had to help or we’d miss our flight. I glanced over at the angels who were now happily braiding their dolls’ hair. How could I tell them that this special holiday was suddenly cancelled? I began to babble.
Call In Francine As Backup
“Call my boss! She’s their grandmother and she’ll tell confirm everything.”
The agent stared at me in utter disbelief and then dialed, only to abruptly hang up.
“Line’s busy, Ma’am. You are denied entry …”
I leapt in before he could dare finish the unthinkable, blathering on about how Mom was the only person at work and she’d simply left the phone off the hook to go and get coffee. The fellow, perhaps eager to shut me up, grudgingly agreed to make one more attempt.
Francine thankfully picked up on the first ring. I held my breath as the US Customs officer launched into official questioning mode. Before long, a grin creased his face. Minutes ticked by; he was clearly being treated to numerous examples of my wondrous abilities in both the auntie and colleague department.
“Yes, Mrs. Robinson, I will certainly make every effort to visit your shop, thank you.” He cleared his throat and pulled himself together. “Now I must ask one more question.”
Hearing it, I confidently waved for the girls to join me. We were about to be sprung.
But no.
My darling mother who’d known me for all of my 29 years failed to answer the one basic question every mother knows …
But nevermind, she has other talents… here she is two years ago at 93 alongside one of her tulip creations … And yes, she’s feeling much better after her slide, thank you.
Enough of “Parent Trap Threatens Flight.” I’m curious about you. Can you believe how lax the rules regarding traveling with kids were back in the day? How do you react under pressure? Better yet, are you confident your mother could answer this most basic question about her children …? If you’d care to share, I’d love to hear.
18 Responses
Oh my, I can’t wait to hear the end of that story !! Do hope that you were able to reunite your nieces and their parents ! I can remember having to jump through some hoops to get permission to take our daughter’s friends out of the country on vacation with us.
You’re a good chaperone, Jane! Me at 27? Not so much. Didn’t think anything of taking the girls “across the line.” Just thought about making sure I had them in my sights all the time. Whoopsies.
Oh yikes! I’ve heard so many stories about our exchange partners planning to take their foreign students on grand adventures only to be foiled by this requirement. I can’t imagine what detail your mom might have forgotten…
Thanks for that, Beth. I do feel a little better to know there are others like me. I truly thought nothing of it at 27 and apparently didn’t learn from it. I was once given absolute heck when I took my two to New Zealand without a copy of my husband’s death certificate. You can bet I had a copy with me at all times from then on. Even when slipping out for milk …
“When is your daughter’s birthday?”
That’s my guess. 😉
Hmmmmm ….
You are absolutely BRILLIANT for sharing these teasers, you know that don’t you? I mean, how can anyone read them and NOT want to buy your book! My gosh, what on earth did she say?
I’m going to throw out a guess… she didn’t know your birthday?
Thanks so very much for your continued support, Chris. Please know that I grin every time I see your email pop up! As for that guess of yours … hmmmmmmm …
And what, pray tell, is the question? Anxiously awaiting the book!
I have to get an official, notarized letter now when I take a kid to Windsor for hockey if it’s only me and not me and my husband. Once Canada wanted the letter at the border, once they didn’t even ask. Go figure.
Oh, I’ll never tell, Katy. Not until the delightful thing is hot off the press. I know, I know, get to work on it Kel! Yes, regarding the notarized permission letter, I’ve heard it’s really loosey goosey. My niece is up with her newborn from LA and she said the very same. Happy Valentine’s to you! Hope you’re thoroughly spoiled today.
It would never have even occurred to me to get permission! But I guess we are talking about transporting minors over the border… Clearly, the Customs officer did not fully appreciate your awesomeness. Thank goodness Francine came to the resue – sort of. I can’t wait for your book to read the rest of this story and so many other wacky tails from my favorite quirk-magnet! Please remember my offer to carry your luggage on your book tour. I can also be counted on to keep you well supplied with wine. 😉
It makes me grin when I think back to how naive I was at 27, Mo. No husband, no kids, just a “great” auntie. Got the snacks? Tick. Got the suitcases? Tick. Got the girls? Tick. Off we go with a skip and a hop and we’re in San Fran! Whoopsies.
And thank you so very much for your endless support about the forthcoming book, Mo. It truly means the world to me and gets me inspired to bang out another chapter. As does that wine and luggage toting offer!!!
I guess the birthday too! I’ve never flown with kids who were not my own, but even with them, teh TSA officer used to ask who we were, etc. I have a friend who almost didn’t get back into the US from a quick drive to Tijuana because she didn’t have her kids’ documents. Fortunately they look exactly like her, and they let her through.
Oh, she was lucky! I can understand how your friend would think nothing of zipping over into Tijuana. It’s the same with Blaine, Washington being so close to us. I did wizen up eventually and for years I would travel with a copy of my husband’s death certificate in my purse no matter where I was taking the kids.
I’ve been catching up on some of your posts, Kelly … and I cannot wait to read your book! This story reminds me of a time when our swim coach was accompanying a teenage male swimmer, flying to a meet, and he had left his ID at home. It was tense for a bit, but they worked it out.
Thanks so much for taking the time to read, Susan. I can sympathize with both the swimmer and the coach. I reckon this kind of thing happens more than we think and I’m so glad it worked out ok.
A couple of burning questions, Sis. Is your Mom THE Mrs. Robinson from the movie? Secondly, I’m assuming this little mishap happened recently because you mentioned Mrs Robinson only knew you 29 years. I hadn’t realized that you turned 30 yet. The one basic question every Mother knows… may I take a guess? Was it boxers or briefs? Have we talked about A Place To Call Home yet? You must see it. There’s a character in it that must be Mrs. Tishel’s long-lost sister and her name is Mrs. Collins. If I’ve talked to about it I apologize. Ever since I turned 40 last year my brain has been mush. Happy Sunday.
Hooray! Good to fish you out of my spam, Sis. And yes, Mom is THE Mrs. Robinson. I know this because my cousin recently played her in the Toronto production and my brother and his pal sang THE song to Mom when she was lecturing at our university back in the day. As two the boxers and briefs suggestion … hmmmmm … great guess! No we haven’t talked about A Place To Call Home. I shall check it out pronto – I mean just mention Mrs. Tishel and I’m there. Snapping my wrist band as I type this.