Mrs. T-B. & the Citizenship Test

[TBoneTX 43,061]

Ingenious thinking, Brother D., but I'm beat tonight. Mrs. T-B., looking forlorn, was in the other room studying, and asked me to ask her the toughest questions. She didn't get many more of them right, but I told her that maybe they won't ask her all of those. Let's hope that little Mini-Bone has a restful night so that his mommy isn't dazed later today, zzz man.

I told her that today marks 6 months with the new cat and 4 years, 1 month, 10 days married to her, si man. I promised that if she passes, she can administer an unobstructed wedgie of any strength at a time of her choosing, si man.

Edited December 10, 2012 by TBoneTX

[C-ma'am 684]

Best of luck to Mrs. TB! Si, querido!

[Penguin_ie 5,986]

Be sure to have a bag of cheetos at the ready, for celebrating or comiserating

[TBoneTX 43,061]

[brood piled in car, heading for interview. Mrs. T-B. studies dog-eared citizenship book furiously.]

T-B. [jovially singing from Barney the Dinosaur]: "Colors make me happy, everywhere I go..."

Mrs. T-B.: Silencio, Cariño [shut up, Sweetheart] -- I'm trying to study.

T-B. [jovial & intentionally oblivious]: "...The world is like a rainbow, puttin' on a beautiful show, OH! Puttin' on a beautiful show."

Mrs. T-B.: I'm trying to study!

T-B.: I know, Cariño, but colors are making me happy! "Eyes come in different colors; so do the birds that fly..."

Mrs. T-B.: Cariñoooooo! I'm studying!

Mini-Bone [22.5 months old, in back, in car seat]: Uh-oh.

T-B.: "...The forest comes in many greens, and look at all the colors in the sky (si, man); Colors make me happy..."

[Mrs. T-B. slugs T-B. with citizenship book]

Mini-B.: Uh-oh.

T-B.: Do you want us to have an accident, Cariño? You always complain about my driving.

Mrs. T-B.: Shaddap!

T-B. [jovially]: You shaddap.

Mini-B.: Uh-oh.

T-B.: Uh-oh.

Mini-B.: Uh-oh.

Mrs. T-B.: Ask me some questions. The hard ones.

T-B.: "Name one of your state's U.S. Senators now."

Mrs. T-B.: Corn. John Corn. John Cornyn. I can remember that because Mini-B. and I eat corn in KFC.

T-B.: Remember that KFC in the big mall in Cuenca [Ecuador], when they told us that they didn't have any pollo [chicken]?

Mrs. T-B.: If that's not a question on my test, I don't want to hear it. My head hurts.

T-B. [jovially & loudly, from Barney]: "My clothes come in colors; sometimes I'm feeling red..."

Mrs. T-B. [plaintively]: Cariñoooooooooooooo...

T-B. [louder]: "Sometimes I'm feeling yellowish, or purple or pink instead!"

Mrs. T-B. [in despair]: Why are you doing this to me now?

T-B.: Because colors are making me happy, and they can make you happy, too.

Mini-B.: Hap-peeeeeeee! [falls asleep] Zzzzz...

Mrs. T-B.: Ask me another question.

T-B.: "What are two rights in the Declaration of Independence?"

Mrs. T-B.: Freedom. The 1512 Wart -- 1812 Wart.

T-B.: Cariño, I can guarantee that you'll pass this test. You know how?

Mrs. T-B.: How?

T-B.: If you fail, you must actively teach Mini-Bone, in Spanish, my two favorite phrases.*

*These approximately translate to "miss my lass" and "one loves a bleach," si man.

Mrs. T-B.: I will NOT teach him those things!

T-B.: You will if you fail. [Mrs. T-B. is silent.]

[Arrival at USCIS. Parking in lot across street at strip-center populated with lawyers advertising service regarding immigration & deportation, all in Spanish.]

Mrs. T-B.: It's cold. Open the trunk and get the stroller.

T-B.: Remember -- if you wake Mini-B., he'll be mad. [Mrs. T-B. gives T-B. a dirty look.]

[Entry to building, 30 minutes before appointment. Compliance with metal-detectors. Entry to public area. Long line for InfoPass. Large group of seated interviewees waiting. In Deportation area, small group of worried-looking Americanas and Hispanic husbands with heads in hands. Mrs. T-B. drops interview letter into wooden tray.]

Mrs. T-B.: I will sit here, and you and Mini-B. can sit there with the stroller. There are goldfish and raisins for him in the bag.

T-B.: What if he wants Mommy?

Mrs. T-B.: Pretend that I'm not here! Spend time with your son! I need to study.

[T-B. & Mini-B. comply.]

Mini-B. [at top of lungs, brandishing small metal cars]: DAD-DY-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y! CAR!

T-B. [in agreement]: Cars!

Mini-B.: CAR! [Mini-B. rolls cars around floor, then up & down T-B.'s leg.]

T-B.: Cars. [Mini-B. rolls cars until losing interest.]

Mini-B.: DAD-DY-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y! [Grabs T-B.'s hand & begins dragging.]

T-B.: Walk?

Mini-B.: WOK! [Mini-B. drags T-B. around floor, stopping to push buttons on vending machines.]

Mini-B. [upon getting no action from vending-machine buttons]: Uh-oh.

T-B.: Uh-oh.

[84 minutes later, and with similar continuing activity from Mini-B., Mrs. T-B.'s name is called. Mrs. T-B. follows short, 55-year-oldish Hispanic-looking dude behind locked doors with coded buttons. Exits 10 minutes later.]

T-B.: What happened? What questions did he ask?

Mrs. T-B.: Nothing about people or warths... warts. Easy questions, like how many Senators.

T-B.: And you said?

Mrs. T-B.: 100. Another one was how old you have to be for Selective Service.

T-B.: What were the others?

Mrs. T-B.: I don't remember. My head hurts.

T-B.: How many did he ask?

Mrs. T-B.: Six.

T-B.: That's all? Did you pass?

Mrs. T-B.: Si.

T-B.: Cariño! Did he say anything else?

Mrs. T-B.: He talked to me in Spanish, and apologized that the interview had to be in English.

T-B.: When's your oath ceremony?

Mrs. T-B.: January sometime. He said I'll get a letter.

T-B. [hugging]: Cariño!

Mrs. T-B. [hugging]: Cariño! [weakly] I'm tired.

T-B. [doing a little dance, singing altered version of La Cucaracha [the cockroach]:

Ciudada-NA, ciudada-NA! [female citizen, female citizen] Ya no puede caminar; [can no longer walk]

Ciudada-NA, porque le fal-TA [female citizen, because she's lacking]

Las dos patitas de atras! [her two back feet]

[Early celebratory dinner at nearby hotel restaurant. Mini-B. squalls joyously at top of lungs, irritating businessman at bar trying to work on computer.]

T-B.: You know the best part about all of this, Cariño?

Mrs. T-B.: What?

T-B.: The instant after you take your oath, I finally get to write my after-visa complaint to the State Department and the ####### Guayaquil consulate.

Mini-B.: Uh-oh.

T-B.: "Uh-oh" is right. I'll barbecue 'em.

Mrs. T-B. [wearily]: Is that ALL that you and the other husbands think about?

T-B.: Si, man.

[On drive home, everyone was exhausted and fell asleep, including T-B., the driver. Upon arrival, someone had already eaten the Cheetos and ice cream, sigh man.]

Mrs. T-B. [after settling in at home]: Thank you for your support with all this, Cariño.

T-B.: Si, Cariño.

[During hug, wedgies are simultaneously administered.]

T-B.: Somebody ate all the ice cream.

Mrs. T-B.: I know who!

T-B.: Yeah, I saw all those gross spoonfuls missing! You know how I eat neatly around the edges!

Mrs. T-B.: Deportacion? [Deportation?]

T-B.: Si, and then I'm immediately calling the rubias. [imaginary harem of 6 blondes]

Mini-B.: Uh-oh.

Mrs. T-B. [on T-B.'s head]:

P.S. This was a good way to celebrate the 6-month anniversary with the new cat, miu man.

Edited December 11, 2012 by TBoneTX

[Moomin 292]

[*Snowdrop* 603]

Congrats - I knew she could do it and was just teasing you

[sara..... 371]

:dance: :dance: :dance: congratulations to Mrs T-B cant wait to finally hear the after-visa complaint to the State Department and the Guayaquil consulate

sara

[caly 48]

Congratulations!

[Ryan H 3,791]

Congratulations!

[beejay 123]

Yay, Mrs. T-B!! Slam dunk! Congrats!

Ice cream for everyone!

[C-ma'am 684]

Yay!!!!!!!!!!!! Congrats!!!

[Mr. Borkström 63]

Congrats to T-B (and mrs. T-B).

What are Cheetos?

[Gary and Alla 3,694]

Congrats Mrs. T-bone! I wasn't worried!

[TBoneTX 43,061]

What are Cheetos?

See, man: http://www.fritolay.com/our-snacks/cheetos-crunchy-cheese.html

[TBoneTX 43,061]

Congrats - I knew she could do it and was just teasing you

Thank you (and everyone), si man, but this was not at all guaranteed, no man. We agreed (without further discussion) how lucky she was that she wasn't asked about Perry Ellis (Governor of Texas) or Calvin Klein (author of the Declaration). She was actually the VERY last interviewee of the day, and 99.44% of the waiting area was empty. Even some USCIS employees were already leaving. We figure that the agent must have been equally eager to close up his part of the shop, given that he was 54 minutes late in getting to her, see man.

The agent asked her if she had studied, and she said, "I don't remember." , man.

Edited December 11, 2012 by TBoneTX