Why do we have an empty envelope from the Department of Homeland Security?

This was the question Husband asked me when I walked into the house yesterday afternoon, after having spent the afternoon with our son at the science museum, celebrating his friend B~'s 6th birthday.

"What do you mean we have an empty envelope from the Department of Homeland Security?" I asked.

"I think this means FOR SURE they are easedropping on us now. Probably they are easedropping on us RIGHT THIS SECOND, to find out what our reaction to the empty envelope is," Husband suggests.

"We are expecting an envelope from the Department of Homeland Security," I said. "A letter telling us that they've received our I600A and instructions regarding a fingerprint appointment."

"Isn't that supposed to come from USCIS or the INS?" he asks, like a totally reasonable human being would.

"USCIS fka INS is underneath the DHS. It's a whole alphabet mish-mosh." I say.

I look in the envelope. It appears to be empty. But, wait, then I see it. IT being a teeny tiny scrap of paper. About two inches long and 3/4 of an inch wide. In very very faint ink, it says, "Receipt $685.00. I600A. Fingerprint. Fingerprint. THIS IS AN OFFICIAL DOCUMENT."

That's right folks. An OFFICIAL DOCUMENT. Slightly larger than a postage stamp.

It's astonishing to me that it did not get thrown away, and might have gotten thrown away, if the envelope didn't bear the scary logo of the Department of Homeland Security on the outside.

Anyway, the good news is, it's proof positive that the government has received our petition. The bad news is, we still don't have a fingerprint appointment.

_________________

Further bad news is the fact that my husband has left the house in a huff. He is upset about the neighbors. The neighbors children have a rock band. They have, evidently, been playing since 10:30 AM this morning, when Gabe and I left the house to go meet an old friend of mine at the Zoo. So, twice this weekend my husband expected to have the house to himself, in peace and quiet, for 4 hours or so each day, so he can get ready for final exams, etc. But, no, instead, while Gabe and I have been to the science museum and the zoo, he has been trying to get work done and has been tormented by the rock band next door.

So, you can see why he might be in a huff.

He has escaped TO THE GROCERY STORE. The neighbors have driven my husband to the edge, I think. He is escaping loud music by running away to Kroger...

LM