After an interesting trip through Canada with our toddler son and miniature dachshund we were coming back into the US via Maine, where my cousin lived, and planning to visit with her and her family for a few days. This was in 1973. We were stopped at the border and pulled over. At that time you didn't need a passport to get in or out of Canada but they would pull you over if they thought there was anything suspicious about you or your vehicle. We were driving a 1971 VW mini-bus camper conversion. The kind with the pop top. It was white and did not have hippy flowers or peace symbols painted on it, but evidently just being a VW bus was enough. I was driving and obediently pulled the bus over. A ranger type (he had that kind of hat) walked up and asked to see my purse. My husband, sitting in the front passenger seat was clinging to our dog who was protesting fiercely about this stranger at our car window. Of course that started our son, who was in the back seat, crying so it was a little hard to communicate. I told him I didn't have a purse, just a billfold, and showed him that. Then he spotted the large bag between the two front seats and asked to see what was in it. I hefted it up on my lap (did I mention that I was seven months pregnant?) and unzipped it. He looked in and saw neatly folded disposable diapers. Disposable diapers were quite new at that time and great for traveling. Evidently, though, he wasn't familiar with the concept. He looked in the bag, pointed to the neatly folded diapers and said "What are those?" I explained that they were disposable diapers and he asked "Are they clean?" "Of course they're clean." I snapped. I was getting a little testy by this time. He never looked under, or even touched the diapers, just told us to be on our way. I could have been smuggling the queen's jewels in that bag.
Tomorrow Oh, Canada part 3, passport woes.
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