LET HIS GREEN CARD GOOOOOOOO!
We are at almost 200 days since A’s green card made its treacherous, doomed journey to Arizona, after a sheriff pegged him for inaccurate information on his card.
In those six-plus months, we have managed to avoid any petty or severe crimes that would have zoomed his keister into a holding cell with an angry patriot, whose great-great-grandparents probably immigrated here themselves, but I digress.
In that time we have:
- shipped his green card across the country–which cost $20 and one ferocious ulcer
- incorrectly made appointments twice
- spent 15 minutes going through metal detectors at the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) offices in Des Moines (me)
- spent 5 minutes completing our appointment at the USCIS offices in Des Moines (him)
- visited the USCIS website approximately 7,824 times to track the glacial progress of A becoming a real boy again … we are currently still “processing”
- called USCIS 5 times to ask if we had done something wrong (we had)
- picked out one Halloween costume (illegal alien)
- tossed out our travel plans
- considered moving to New Zealand permanently
After six months elapsed last week, for a process they said would take, “a couple of weeks … well, we don’t really know how long …”, A called again and was told the office was still processing cases from APRIL 15. Our case was formally opened in June, according to them.
I immediately figured that either we or the USCIS were mistaken. April 15 is usually tax day. Did we call the IRS? Or did the USCIS forget which department they were in? Or are they really SIX MONTHS BEHIND?
I understand that America handles more immigration requests than I can even dare to estimate in this scientific and hyperbole-less blog. And I understand that these are very important matters that can ruin someone’s life if done incorrectly–so careful attention must be given.
ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS CHECK THAT HIS BIRTH DATE WAS NOW CORRECT.
I feel like there should be a USCIS express lane for cases that are just a result of a WHOOPSIES.
So here we sit, waiting for those magical papers to come in the mail so we can breathe a sigh of relief, go on vacation, make large purchases without odd looks and finally steal a recycling bin from our neighbors without fear of deportation.
Our first anniversary is in less than a month. Since this is the “paper anniversary”, that would be a hell of a gift.