It's spring break around here and since Friend Husband is home, I have a lot less time to dottle about on the computer. I totally missed Monday Memories yesterday as we spent the whole day dealing with the taxes for the year. This is when I realize that I am hopelessly unorganized and this is when it costs me time and energy.
One of the things we couldn't find was the babies' Social Security numbers. We were not allowed to count them as deductions last year because the adoption was not finalized in the U.S. until March (although it was finalized in Ethiopia the previous July and they were living in our home from August on). So we didn't have old tax forms on which to rely, as we do for the girls. After searching most of the morning, I volunteered to go down to the SSA office (thankfully not the one in downtown Cincinnati) and get replacement cards for them. Fortunately for me, Sarah went with me and the twins.
Once we got there, we realized that the wait would be long and arduous. The waiting room was packed with people whose facial expressions ranged from unhappy to belligerent. I sat down in the back, with the twins in their double stroller, waiting for my number to be called. After about an hour, the twins got restless and tried to bounce out of their stroller. Rather than annoy my fellow sufferers in the office, I took them outside to stroll up and down the sidewalk in front of and around the building. I gave the number to Sarah, who stayed in the waiting area, and told her to come get me when they called the number.
When they finally called the number (after 30 minutes of walking and saying, "Look, green car...red car...silver truck...silver car" and being hit up for small change by a panhandler), I was around the side of the building and Sarah frantically scanned the horizon looking for me. When I came into the waiting room, the SSA employee looked at me with vast irritation on his face. Well, excuse me for trying to keep my children occupied quietly while we wait out the afternoon in your nasty waiting room! He lightened up a bit when one of the twins (I can't remember which one) kept pointing at him and saying, "Dad?" (They did this to every man in the waiting room yesterday. I have no idea why. Most of them did not look like Friend Husband at all and it's not as though they're 9 months old anymore.) It didn't occur to me until we got home and I was relating to Friend Husband the stories of our trials and travails yesterday that the twins are African-American. The men in the waiting room had no reason to believe that the twins' dad was caucasian and they're naming all of them off as "Dad". Somehow that just struck me as hilarious and I rolled on the floor, thinking about it.
Anyway, we finally got the precious slips of paper with the needed numbers on them and proceeded out the door. As we were leaving, the twins waved to everyone in the open room and said, "Goodbye, Man! Goodbye, Man!" The faces were much less grumpy, at least for a while.
I don't know what we're going to do for the rest of spring break. I'm planning to get the house a little more ready for company (Friends Judi and David from Texas!) and attempt to knit my infuriating KAL dishcloth. I don't know why I'm having so much trouble with it but I am. I always end up with the wrong stitch count. Anyway, those are my plans and I'm sticking to them!