I took my 10-year-old son Kevin on a father-son fishing trip to Canada a few years back. The week’s catch included 83 northern pike, 133 walleye and—as Kevin likes to put it—a Canadian criminal record for Dad.
Our adventure started with a flight from Chicago to Winnipeg. The itinerary included a quick layover before we hopped on a little puddle-jumper to take us to our final destination. That would be the connection we never made.
During the descent into Winnipeg, I started to rattle off directions to Kevin about which bags I wanted him to carry as we maneuvered on to our next flight. I double-checked his backpack to make sure it was zipped, triple-checked our connecting flight information, and made sure I had our passports and forms ready to get through Customs.
I also gave Kevin a crash course on Customs etiquette.
“These guys are like the police,” I told him. “Don’t screw around. No monkey business.”
Leg one of the journey was almost done and we were right on schedule.
My dialogue with the Customs Officer was by the book.
Officer: “What brings you to Canada?”
Me: “I’m taking my son on a fishing trip up north.”
Officer: “How long will you be in Canada?”
Me: “We’ll return a week from today, sir.”
Everything seemed routine to me. The guy looked at Kevin and smiled. Just a couple stamps were needed and we’d be on our way. But then, he glanced again at Kevin who now was sporting a Canadian goose-in-the-headlights kind of look.
I was no longer a part of this conversation.
“Son,” the Customs Officer said, “tell me who this man is that you’re traveling with.”
Then came those words out of the random world of this 10-year-old that forever changed the course of our trip. “I don’t know who he is!” Kevin cried. “I want to go home!”
Before I could even process what he had said, before I could begin to spit the words out of my mouth that were trapped in my throat, before I could try to help bring some parental explanation to the little joke my son was apparently playing, I found myself bookended by two police officers.
And, I discovered how uncomfortable handcuffs could be.
♦◊♦
During the next two hours I learned what drug smugglers go through when they are greeted by officials in foreign countries. Kevin, I later was told, was taken to a room where he played video games.
It’s a funny feeling, being locked up under those circumstances. Job one, I knew, was to convince these folks that this was all a kid’s silly joke, that I’m a loving dad, that life is copacetic, and we should all laugh at this “dumb kid” moment and move on. But they weren’t buying my story.
“Why would he say that, sir?” they kept asking me.
How was I supposed to respond? Was I supposed to say he was a dumb-ass kid and they should be more concerned about what I was contemplating doing the minute I got him alone?
We went round and round. I was their fish at the end of a line. They’d reel me in and then randomly let out the line. This was sport.
They finally got tired. Or bored—I don’t know. Maybe their shift was over. Either way they handed me all of my paperwork before leading me out into the hall where I found Kevin, sitting, holding a slice of pizza.
“You’re free to go,” one of the Custom Officers said to me as she pointed in the direction I needed to walk. “Have a nice trip.”
And Kevin and I were suddenly alone in an empty back hallway.
“Are you out of your mind!?” I screamed at Kevin in the loudest, whispering voice I could manage. Kevin’s face now burst into Niagra Falls.
“Are you, you, you okay?” he managed to ask me through his hyperventilating quivers.
“Alright. Stop crying. Let’s go,” I said as I started pulling all our gear together. “I don’t want to get arrested again.”
We caught another flight a few hours later, which gave us a lot of downtime in the Winnipeg Airport. Though tempted, I never revisited the topic that day. Some lessons don’t need to be hammered in.
And some lessons eventually become great family folklore.
—Photo musiclver05/Flicker
I think all parents worry about this kind of thing, I sure do but I’m sure that you didn’t have to do or say anything to the boy at all except “its OK now but don’t do that again”. I’ll bet he really knows that “there are jokes and there are stupid jokes” and he will know it forever. Cheep at the price. I might have even asked the officials to let me sit with them for another few minutes until I could calm down enough to talk with him about it. Not a parent in the world who wouldn’t… Read more »
You’re totally right. Clearly, we talked about the incident – at some point. Truthfully I don’t remember that part. He was so upset when it happened. And, truly, he’s always been just an awesome follow-the-rules kid. This was just one of those moments of total stupidity on his end….and I know it left a lasting impression on him. None of it was funny at the time. None of it was funny for a long time. But, now, honestly…I can truly chuckle. Thanks for reading…
CORRECTION: I said to my mom, ‘Please don’t hurt me again.’ She never hurt me for god’s sake LOL.
Billie – I think you and Kevin have the same DNA! It’s just dumb kid stuff…it’s amazing our parents survive us! Thanks for reading. Now go send your mom some flowers…
THIS REMINDS ME of the time my mom told me we were in a fabric store! I was acting up, so my mom, rightfully disciplined me.
When we got to the check out stand, I acted out again. Mom said, ‘Please don’t hurt me again.’
UGH!
Clearly I didn’t mean that, but if that were now … holy CRAP would child services have been called. LOL
That was great! I love stories like this from other people, having stories of my own two boys. I’ll put this on my briefing list of things to share with them regarding: What not to do when dealing with a custom’s officer. -Why do boys do what they do?. . .my 13 year old is a lot different in personality than my 5 year old. Here’s what I think did it for him, from what I read in your words. “I also gave Kevin a crash course on Customs etiquette. These guys are like the police, I told him. ”… Read more »
Hey, thanks for reading and thanks for the comments! sounds like your boys keep you busy too! This will forever be one of those moments that I go, “what happened?” Even yesterday, I asked Kevin if he remembered it and why he did it. His memory is very foggy EXCEPT for being really scared afterwards. Who knows. Right? Truth is, the next 7 days were some of the best memories ever. That’s what I remember!
Simple way to teach the kid a lesson; take him back to Winnipeg in January….for “ice fishing”
Now you’re talking!
Thank you. That is, by far, the greatest fish story I’ve ever heard.
That’s funny – the second half of the story was, within 24 hours Kevin caught a 48″ Northern Pike in the first hour of fishing……while all of us adults just shook our heads in disbelief. Thanks for reading!
Wait?? What???
Maybe it’s the reporter in me but how did you not revisit that and get to the bottom of why he said what said? What a cliffhanger. I thought there would be an explanation at the end. Wow. You’re a better dad than I am because I can’t live with that kind of uncertainty. I would’ve needed a detailed explanation of what the fuck just happened.
Either way, funny story and blackmail for all eternity.
i don’t even know what to say. if Pookie pulled that shit?
well written, as always.
You’ll have your day….with one of em. Trust me. The funny thing, out of my three kids….Kevin’s the “follow-the-rules-never-give-me-crap” kid. For me, it was the most out of character thing he ever did. Maybe that explains why I actually didn’t blow a total top….he was so friggin scared when they finally reunited us!
Now back to you….don’t you have a son named Monster?!!!!
you should have smacked the little bastard and left him behind. maybe the customs guards would do a better job raising him
You should have beat the shit out of him. I would have.
He most definitely deserved it, didn’t he. Truthfully, it was so out of character for him – at the time – I think I was shell-shocked by his behavior…
A beating may still be in the future! Thanks for reading…
I would’ve put him up for adoption.
I do remember, shortly after that, looking seriously at military schools! Thanks for reading!
LOL,
If I had done this, even because I was scared out of my mind and it was an accident. My A#$ would literally be black and blue. There was no such thing as conversation in my family.
Trust me.. . while I was spending all that time with Customs, all I could think about was what I REALLY wanted to do to him… but I figured hauling him into the airport bathroom and giving him what he deserved probably wasn’t a good idea! Thanks for your comment and reading!
Equally horrible and hilarious! This is something my ten year old would do too. I was going to say they’re so alike they should be friends but that would probably be too dangerous:)
Yeah, probably a good idea to keep these two guys apart. Sounds like you have another spirited kid too! They can be fun – when they’re not causing trouble. Thanks for reading!
@fishandsteak (great name!)…..You stand as the posterchild for every kid who’s threatened their parents with “I’m calling social services!!!!” I’m sure every family has their stories.
You’re right, this story gets raised often – usually by Kevin’s little brother. I can guarantee, however, it will be woven into my toast at Kevin’s wedding!
Thanks for reading.
@Jim Higley
I finally got round to writing about it, if you fancy a laugh: The story of how I accidentally reported my parents to Social Services
http://www.fishandsteak.co.uk/2011/01/when-did-leave-home.html
Hey, great story. I’m glad you wrote it down. What a crazy set of circumstances! I’m sure you think about it – hesitantly – every time you book a hotel! Have a good one!
An excellent bit of family history to be dragged up every time he gets a new girlfriend then….
Reminds me of accidentally reporting my parents to social services while trying to book a hotel hundreds of miles away!