Crossing the Canadian Border

"Happy Birthday, Sandy! Make a wish and blow out the candles!" My Mom said. My birthday had already passed on Wednesday, but I still wanted to celebrate with my family and a friend.

"Thanks mom!" I blew out all thirteen candles on my red velvet, five-inch diameter cake all at once. "Hey Mom! I just realized that it has been exactly three years since the Canadian Border Mishap!"

"Indeed it has, Sandy! I still remember the look on your father's face when he finally came out of the police station!" My mom smiled.

"Hold up. Your dad was in a police station?" Asked my friend Jasmine, whom I had invited over for a sleepover. "You didn't tell me about this when you talked about the road trip!"

"Oh! Sorry about that! I probably didn't tell you because it was such a wonderful story that I wanted to save it for later!" I grinned.

"Sandy, why don't you tell Jasmine all about it? But first, we need to get our cake!" My dad said, handing me the knife. "Go on, birthday girl!”

I took the knife from my dad and cut the tiny cake into four- I’ll be honest- not-so-equal pieces. My dad handed paper plates and plastic spoons to everyone. 

We sat down in the living room, and I launched into the fabulous story of the road trip incident. "Three years ago, we decided to take a road trip to Canada, just for sightseeing. Of course, I already told you this, Jasmine... But what I didn't tell you was that my dad was taken to a police station for questioning, just near the Canadian border." 

“I’m gonna go get a Coke, gimme a sec, Sandy. You can continue with the story though,” said my dad, standing up.  Literally, as soon as I started the story my dad needed to get up for something. 

“Mkay,” I said.

“So what did your dad do?” Jasmina looked at me with her eyes wide.

My dad came back into the room with a can of Coke in his hand. “Nothing, I was just really tired at that time and couldn’t think str-” He started.

I cut him off.

"I’m the storyteller here, dad. So anyway. Dad and I had just spent the weekend in New York City. At, I’d say, around 5 pm we headed to an airport near the New York side of Niagara Falls to pick up my mom. She had to come and join us later on the trip because of work. We spent about an hour near the falls, and then around seven, we left for Canada. There was a bridge that we needed to cross which was patrolled by some officers because obviously, Canada is a whole 'nother country.”

“Yeah, I remember going to Canada when I was, like, 8 years old or something. We went to Ontario to see some relatives who I’d never met. The ride was actually pretty exciting, just the traffic near that bridge was so packed. My brother and I got so bored of waiting. At least the big lake that the bridge went over was really pretty.” Jasmine added. I'd actually never knew that she’d gone to Ontario, so that was interesting. And she was right; the lake under the bridge was truly stunning. 

I continued on with the story. "The traffic over at the bridge was so jam-packed that it spread at least a mile behind the bridge. It took at least 30 minutes to get onto the bridge, and at least another 15 to get to the security booth and get cleared for crossing. By this time my dad was super-duper tired- I was too, even though I wasn’t even the one driving!”

“You got that right,” my dad muttered.

“Now here’s the funny part! When we finally got to the booth, the police checked out my dad’s car. He asked Dad who I was, but Dad didn’t answer the officer. Instead, he turned to the back seat with a confused face and asked me who I was! It’s like he literally just drew a blank on who this 10-year-old girl in the back of his car was!” I laughed.

"No way!" Jasmine giggled. "You can't just forget your kid's name!"

“Give me a break! I was super tired, alright!” My dad tried to defend himself.

“Sure, Ron. You’ve got to admit though- It’s not so often someone forgets their kid’s name! I get you were tired, but still!” My mom smiled at my dad.

“Exactly, Mom gets it. This is a perfect example of why you don’t drive when you’re sleepy. You end up forgetting your own child’s name,” I said, matter-of-factly.

“Oh, please! Wanda, you were literally sleeping the entire time. Don’t lecture me on being tired. And Sandy,” My dad turned to me, “You keep this up, you aren’t getting your birthday present this year!” My dad made a face

“Guys, stop bickering! I still wanna know the rest of the story!” Jasmine complained.

“Alright, alright. So back to the story. Go on Sandy” My mom said.

I went back to narrating the story. “The officer told us to pull over to the tiny space by the side of the bridge and wait for him to return. By this time my mom had woken up and was firing questions at my dad. Five minutes later the officer returned and told us we needed to come with him to the station, which was on the Canadian side of the bridge. When we arrived outside the station he got another officer to inspect our luggage for “suspicious substances” and weaponry.”

“Because obviously a normal family on vacation would be “carrying stuff” across country borders,” My dad rolled his eyes.

Jasmine laughed, “Mhm. Obviously.”

“They were just doing their job, I guess. But anyway, they brought us all into the police station and had my mom and me wait in the front. They took my dad into some closed area of the police station to question him. Dad hasn't told us exactly what they asked him, just made him state his business over in Canada about a hundred times. They also made him show identity and other things."

"Yeah, I probably didn't look so good trying to cross a national border with a child that I didn't know the name of," my dad chuckled.

"Probably not," I laughed. "So, around two hours later they released my dad and started asking my mom questions. Another 30 minutes later, they released my mom and told us we were free to go. It took SO long for us to get into Canada. We still had to drive all the way to our hotel in Toronto, which took another 3 hours or so. By the time we reached it, it was super late at night and we all pretty much collapsed on the beds without changing or anything."

"At least you didn't have to go through the annoying traffic at the bridge... you got off pretty quickly," Jasmine said.

"Well, yeah, but only to have to wait another 3 hours at the police station. Honestly, we would have preferred the bridge traffic," my mom responded.

"Oh, that's true," Jasmine agreed.

"At least the rest of the drive went really smoothly. We spent three days in Canada, visiting Ottowa, Montreal, and Quebec City. Then we started off home and arrived back in Charleston 3 days later. All in all, a terrific vacation." I finished.

"And not to mention, a wonderful memory for us to remember for years to come," my mom added. "Now, how about we watch a movie?"

I had a wonderful 13th birthday and 3rd anniversary of the Canadian Border Mishap.