Our little American

I never reported back on our trip to the US Embassy, did I? Well, we had our appointment a couple weeks ago, and it went just as smoothly as it could have and soon enough we'll have the paperwork - and passport - to prove that little Leif is an American boy.

Which is of course totally naturally, and also so strange - I mean, he's never even been to America! Unless you count the little tract of land that the American embassy sits on as "America", of course. He slept through his whole visit there, so he's never been awake in America.

We waited our turn in the American citizen section of the waiting room, lounging at a table, while the huddled masses packed into neatly-lined rows of chairs waiting for their turns to explain why they wanted visas to visit our exceptional, free country.

We'd gathered a ton of paperwork to prove our lives in the US (I had report cards going back to 6th grade, and school pictures going back to kindergarten!), and in the end the kind man made a photocopy of one of my high school report cards (all A's) and that was enough. A few minutes later we were called to another window to swear that we were telling the truth and answer a simple question or two (where did we meet?), and to show our sleeping baby to the lady behind the window, and that was that.

In a few weeks we'll have Leif's social security card, report of birth abroad, and passport, and he'll be officially instated (pun fully intended) as an American. He'll never be able to be president, but we have grander hopes for him anyway.