We took a big adventure to the Health Department last week to pick up a copy of my son’s birth certificate. And because I’m on a maternity leave, a big day is putting on a real bra and changing into some fresh PJ pants, so this trip was especially interesting.
We parked in the front and walked into the building, which housed a clinic. The free clinic, I suppose. We asked the girl at the front desk where we could get his birth certificate.
“OK, walk down the hall, you’ll see two doors. Take the right door. Then keep walking down another hallway. The 4th door on your left, go through that. Then keep walking some more. You’ll go through the nine circles of hell, through the candy cane forest, look for the signs that say “Birth and Death Certificates”. Follow that sign. Walk 4 more miles, then you’ll be there.”
We finally reached the Birth/Death Certificates sign and found these lovely and festive Christmas deco:
Merry Christmas! THIS WAY TO YOUR DEATH CERTIFICATE.
How inappropriate is that skeleton dressed as a Santa? I mean, even if you are a fan of Nightmare Before Christmas, wouldn’t you think twice about setting up that particular decoration where people are headed to pick up the final reminder of their recent dearly departed.
So we order the birth certificate, which is scarily easy to do. Just show up, pay your $15 and pretend like you’re someone’s legal guardian or spouse. They didn’t’ even check a drivers license. A few minutes later it was ready.
Only one problem — my husband was the one who ordered it. His first name used to be a male name and now is used for many girls, so he gets it a lot and I think it’s super rude and presumptive of people. Also in the same “hate hut”: when people call me Amber (which is all the time) or think they are too important to remember my name in a business setting because I’m a young looking woman, but those are all complaints for a different day.
“Don’t you mean MR. AUSTIN? CLEARLY HE’S A MAN,” I smarted off to the lady at the front desk and my husband ushered me out quickly. I can’t be let out in public.
We left through a different door and found more adventures.