Passports

It has been a while.  Sorry.

On Monday night at 8:30, my mother called and told me we must get my father to Rome.  As a brief background, my father lived in Rome for about 10 years.  He met my mother on a crowded bus there.  Before he met my mother, he was married to an Italian actress and they had a son, my half brother.  My half brother is a successful stage actor.  He has the lead role in a performance which debuts on October 14th and if you read Italian, you can see for yourself:  http://www.teatroeliseo.it/eliseo/spettacolo_eliseo_1.asp.  So at 8:30 on Monday night my mother decided it was terribly important for my father to be there for the debut.  

Given my prowess with Expedia I was charged with the task of booking a flight and a hotel near my brother's apartment.  I spooled up on Tuesday morning and put an itinerary on hold.  In one of many phone relays, I spent Tuesday convincing my parents it was in fact a good deal and by Wednesday my mother and father were ready to commit.  

Wednesday afternoon, I pulled up the itinerary and called my parents.  We walked through the booking.  When we got to the section in which a passport number may be entered my father put the phone down to get his passport out of the car.  What it was doing there, I don't know.  He got back on the phone and we proceeded.  For the record any phone call that is conducted with my parents is on speaker phone because they are both challenged in the hearing department.  So I can hear my mother chirping in the background as Dad and I work on details.

"What is the expiration date, Dad?" 

"Oh hell, it expired May 2008.  Well that is going to make this trip impossible," he said.  And I hear him throw the passport aside.

My mother pipes up, "Are you sure, let me see, is it expired?"

I can hear my mother retrieving the tossed aside, government issued document, and then she says quite seriously, "Well, we’ll just doctor the expiration year ourselves."

Top that mom.