Border Patrol

When I was 17 years old I was sent to travel to Montreal with my sister. This was the first time we traveled alone without adults. We took the Greyhound and 8 hours later at 10pm we finally made it to the border. We all got off the bus and went to show our documents to border patrol. When we got to the counter the nice French-Canadian officer lady asked us in her accent where we were going, who we were seeing and how long we were staying. Then she asked if we had the letter from our parents giving us permission to cross the border. Insert tire screech. No one told us that had to be done. She said it was fine and we could just call my mother. So, I dialed and she took the phone.

Border patrol: (with Celine Dion accent) Good evening Madame. This is border patrol. I have Natasha and Maria here with me. We just need permission from you to allow them to cross the border.
My mother: yeah, right. Haha. You guys are so funny. Border patrol!
Border patrol: No, really ma’am. This is border patrol.
My mother: haha. Yeah, whatever they did just lock them up.

When I realized that my mother thought it was a joke I turned to my sister and said “Oh. My. God. She doesn’t believe her. She’s gonna land us in border prison”.

Finally after a few back and forths (and I think I may have gotten on the phone in the middle of it) she finally believed us and all was good. Another historical (and hysterical) oops moment in my life.