CUSTOMS INSPECTION
By After an overnight flight to meet my father at his latest military assignment,
my mother wearily arrived at Rhein-Main Air Base in Germany with my eight
siblings and me – all under age 11. Collecting our many suitcases, the ten of us
entered the cramped customs area.
A young customs official watched our entourage in disbelief, “Ma’am,” he said,
“does all these children and this luggage belongs to you?”
“Yes, sir,” my mother said with a sigh. “They’re all mine.”
The customs agent began his interrogation: “Ma’am, do you have any weapons,
contraband or illegal drugs in your possession?”
“Sir,” she calmly answered, “if I’d had any of those items, I would have used
them by now.”
The official allowed us to pass without opening a single suitcase.