Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Smooth Operator

Three years ago today I crossed the Canadian border with my husband(then my boyfriend), 2 elderly black cats and several large totes filled with all my favorite clothing. I had taken a leave from my job in Clevelend a month earlier with the intention of traveling for a couple months and returning to, probably, my same old job, same old life. So, it was a tense crossing as we weren't sure exactly how long I was really staying in this country. According to customs and immigration Americans are allowed to reside in Canada up to 6 months without a visitor visa or permanent residency, but saying so at the border would automatically qualify you for a long grueling inspection. Particularly so considering the timeliness... one day after the 9/11 remembrance. I felt nervous and sick to my stomach for hours preceeding the stop at the Canadian border, anticipationg the long wait and possibly being hauled into customs. A friendly 20-ish girl was inside the customs booth and cheerfully asked the usual questions and cooed at the confused cats in the backseat, who had endured a vet visit and some vaccines to be granted their certified bill of health which permitted their entrance in to the country. "How long will you be in Canada?" Easy enough... "two weeks" we replied in unison from the car. And then another unexpected question, "How are you leaving Canada?" My eyebrows rose slightly and my mouth opened, but no sound came out. My charming and very quick witted husband smiled and easily answered "I'm driving her." Several thank yous later we were on the other side of the border and feeling much lighter, relieved and very relaxed. Now that all the governmental dealings were all done, the tension was fully allevieated from the car and everything seemed to have easily fall into place. We were feeling tranquil, very pleased to be heading home. I had something to tell my husband... "I think I'm pregnant."


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