…The next day we decided to cut our losses and go into town for what felt like the millionth day of the week. We collected two forms (one being a spare) and made our way to a coffee shop so that Hubby could fill it in before we took it to the bank to get them to sign (we’d decided to do that rather than put my friend out again just before her holiday.)
He completed it and handed it to me proudly to check. I read it and pointed out that he’d put his old address on it instead of the address where he’d been living for seven years!!!! Mistake #9.
He managed the second form without a mistake but he kept on saying “oh no” every few minutes because he’s such a funny joker and likes it when his wife threatens to kill him.
With the form finished, we took it to the bank. The woman behind the counter took the form and went to find the manager. She came back and said how sorry she was but they weren’t able to do it as they don’t have their own passports to hand and their passport number is needed to counter-sign. The man on the phone had lied. Mistake…oh who cares what number. I was fuming. And emotional.
I rang my friend in desperation. Luckily she hadn’t set off on her weekend away. “Of course you can come by – I’ll fill it in now for you before I go.” I was so relieved.
We drove over and I left her with the form while I went off to play with her kids. I didn’t want to add any pressure given that this was the only form we had left and it was all going well. So far…
She filled it in and signed it carefully (not touching the edge of the box).
We drove back to the Post Office, which was starting to feel like my second home. I took it to the counter seriously ready to punch the lady if she said there was a problem with it. Nope, thankfully the form was fine.
But the date on the back of the photo no longer matched the date on the form. This = failure. Apparently. Thankfully she told me to amend it myself and said she didn’t think it would be a problem. But she wasn’t happy that the photo was printed on thin paper. She said she couldn’t guarantee it would go through as it felt too flimsy. I laughed (probably a bit too hysterically). It was one of the photos that came from the post office passport photo booth!!! If they dared to reject it they’d feel the full force of my pent up anger! Have you ever heard of a passport photo booth not printing acceptable passport photos?!!
I walked out half relived but half convinced that it was going to come back to haunt me with a big fat rejection slip the following week.
Thankfully, after two weeks of nail biting, both passports arrived safely. I paid for their birth certificates to be returned special delivery and one came in the standard post, but I think I’m beyond caring now. I don’t have any energy left to complain. The holiday is all booked and god knows I need one to recover from the stress of it all. Just don’t remind me that I need to go through it all again in five years.