I stood in line at the Pass and ID office, patiently awaiting my turn. Unbeknownst to me, my military dependent ID had conveniently expired a few weeks after my husband deployed, and was confiscated at the front gate en route to the children’s Christmas party. Oops.
Fast forward several months later, and now that homecoming is a few weeks away, I finally got my act together to get my ID replaced. In heels and a business suit, I left work early for my appointment. When I finally made it to the front of the line, I told the the gentleman behind the desk my ID had expired and I needed to replace it. With a smile and no ill-will, he asked, “Are you a contractor ma’am? Or just a spouse?”
The words reverberated through my ears like nails on a chalkboard.
I might not be a contractor, but I’m not “just” a spouse.
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