We planted ourselves firmly on the plastic chairs that were lined in rows at the passport office and got ready for what might be a long wait.
Even though the vast room was almost void of people the numbers were being called slowly.
I looked down at my daughter and could tell with one glance that she was antsy. A passport office is no fun for a two year old.
Tucking my legs up onto the chair I widened my eyes at her.
“Hurry! Come close! There are sharks in the water and the waves are big! Our boat is very small so you have to hang on!”
Her face lit up as she scanned the rumbling sea of linoleum and scampered over to me, tightening herself into a ball.
“sharks!” She yelled, pointing out into the open.
“Paddle like mommy and we’ll be safe!” I encouraged, showing her the motion on one side of my body and then the other.
She mimicked my swaying arms and determination as we dug into the imaginary waves, each swing pushing us further away from the sharks.
Once Brian finished he walked over to our boat and quickly received a warning from our daughter, “Daddy! Sharks!”
Her smile larger than life.
It was then that a shadow cast itself over our boat.
His white and black uniform tipping our boat and throwing us into the sea of crashing waves.
“Ma’am please take your daughter down from the chairs. They’re dangerous and she might fall.”
Our play came to a screeching halt and we gathered our things, leaving our broken boat behind.
So, to the big Killer Whale who crushes boats and imaginary play, takes his job way too seriously, and has forgotten what it’s like to have children.
Would you rather I read my phone while she runs around pulling things off shelves.
Would you like her to cry uncontrollably because I won’t let her leave?
How about we try and make her sit still. On a chair. Because she’s two.
I will determine if she is safe or if she is not because I AM A DAMNED GOOD MOTHER.
It took me a long time to realize that.
But guess what?
So if you’ll excuse me,
I have sharks to fight.