I had a plan for today. A big, important plan. We all three of us need passports before we go to Florida. Mine ran out in January, Mog's runs out in June and Little Fish doesn't have one at all. We're off in just over six weeks. If we take our application forms to the post office, we should get our passports back in two weeks, which in theory should be plenty of time. But I'm a worrier; I'm stressed about this, and I wouldn't normally book an overseas holiday until the passports were in my hands. So I made an appointment to go to the passports office and get them done that way - several hours in the car and a few more queueing and waiting, more expensive, but three passports guaranteed to arrive in just a week.
To that end, I gathered the necessary documentation. Medical letter excusing Mog from meeting the official standards for passport photographs (she can't close her mouth and look at the camera and hold her head up - actually she can't sit up either but we managed to fudge that with a cunningly disguised hand at the back of her head. Long wild woolly hair helps!). Signatures from a "person of good standing in the community" certifying we are who we say we are. Signatures and information from Mog's other mother to prove I'm not trying to kidnap Mog. Birth certificates, court orders, adoption certificates for Little Fish. All sorted and lined up last night.
Carer booked for this morning, lunches organised, bus refuelled and ready to run, company clothes all laid out and ready to wear. House in a fit state to be abandoned for the day. Etcetera.
And then Mog pulled her ace. She has been coughing mightily from her chest infection, a round of antibiotics has really loosened things up and she's producing nicely. But has not been otherwise ill with it. Until last night, that is. From 1AM Mog has been coughing and spluttering and generally drowning, miserable and uncomfortable, and needing to be sitting upright. She finally settled back to sleep at 6AM. Little Fish woke up at 6.34AM!
Mog woke up an hour later, pale and twitchy and obviously in need of another round of antibiotics. So instead of heading over to the passport agency we're heading into town to the Dr's. Able as Little Fish is, I can't rely on her to help Mog to clear her cough if needed when I'm driving, so I think a 10 minute drive is probably better than a 2 hour one. We'll just have to send the passports through the post - and I'll have to just trust they all come back in good time.