Yes, He Knows He's Never Lived in New York.

I went down (this is like the first time I've ever said I went down to someplace and then found out that yes indeed, the direction I was traveling in was down!) to Mount Clemens yesterday to get the marriage license.

For anyone who doesn't know, Aharon was born in Canada. This has caused considerable amounts of, well, crap, throughout the last five years. Canada doesn't like that he calls himself an American citizen but then states his birth place as Sarnia. America doesn't like it, either. Apparently they've never met someone born in another country before because you'd think by the look they give us that we were telling them that he was born to a family of prairie dogs or something! He was born with American citizenship, but his social security number was issued through immigration. That means his first three digits correspond to a New York birth. The problem? There's no record of him ever living in New York, but since he was born with citizenship, nobody seems to understand why it all had to go through immigration, either. It makes sense to me, but apparently I'm the only one.

So back to the original point. Because we get so much drama every time we do anything that involves social security numbers or the government in general, I took every single piece of identifying information I could find with me. We're talking birth certificates, passports, consular's report of birth abroad, Canadian birth certificate, driver's licenses, social security cards, and voter's registration. (Aharon couldn't go with me because his allergies were acting up and I knocked him out with a nice dose of Benadryl. Accidentally, of course. I didn't expect him to fall asleep - just to zone out. But nope. Out cold. For like 2 hours.)

And guess what happens when I arrive?! They only piece of identifying information I need to present them with is MY driver's license. Not even anything for Aharon. He didn't even have to sign the form! Only I did. At one point, the girl asked if Memphis was in Macomb county. I told her that we both lived in the half that was in it, and that I had brought voter registration cards to prove it. But she didn't want to see them!

I was perfectly prepared for any obstacle and I encountered none. And honestly, it kind of made me upset. I was ready, and nobody cared!