Taking the Oath

Wednesday afternoon we ventured into D.C. to submit our requests for diplomatic passports at the passport office. One would think that in today's digital age of hi-tech information dissemination and communications advances, this could be done via internet. Or phone. Or standard mail. Or telegraph. Or fire signal. But the requirement is that each dependent receiving a passport must be present to be administered an oath. 18 month-old Halen listened intently and valiantly to the oath, but the phrase "deliberately falsify information" might have been just slightly outside his range of comprehension. But I'm glad the government can rest easier knowing Halen agrees to not use his diplomatic passport for any unauthorized purposes.

The warm weather and sunny skies brought the D.C. bureaucrats out onto the downtown streets en masse. Pedestrians streamed across crosswalks like meltwater, suit jackets thrown over shoulders, shiny dress shoes clicking rhythmically against the concrete and pavement. After inching our bulky minivan through the melee, finding a place to park, and pushing through the crowds strewn across the sidewalks, Shannon and I determined we are definitely not urbanites. Give us a suburb or, better yet, a nice, wide-open rural environment close enough to a population center to be convenient. Urban sprawl be darned.