My mum was always in charge. She said she wanted to be a general, if they would have her. She loved to laugh, give orders and eat candy. Candy was the main part of her diet. From Butterfingers to Dots to homemade fudge. I used to joke with her to get her to exercise.

I would make the 45 mins drive to her house and once I got there, I would say mom will you go for a walk to the end of the street? No.

What if I give you a Butterfinger? You can have half now and then half after you finish the walk. Okay, she’d say with a huge grin. That was my ploy. It always worked.

She once told me, eight years ago while at the Galapagos Islands she found a feather that  was blue and violet, she loved it so much, and thought to herself, “How can I take this back home with me”. She said, she put it in her fanny pack to walk through TSA at the airport. Once she got through TSA she went to the ladies room and then transferred it to her bra for safe keeping. My mom was such a bad ass.

I said, mom, that was a crime. “What can I say, I wanted that feather!”

My mum would give me this innocent look and sly grin, “who was going to come after little ole me? ” She would laugh to herself.

This made me think of my own smuggling tale.

I remember three years ago, I was leaving Australia and packing up my things with my mate S. She really wanted me to take back some Australian wine. She had toured some wineries before I arrived, so I didn’t need much enticing.  I wanted to take back some vino. I happily obliged. She gently rolled them up in plastic bubble wrap, then taped them up ever so tightly, and then slid them into a sealed plastic bag and wrapped them again inside of my clothes. As I checked my suitcase in for my returned flight to the states, I was nervous, sweating profusely. Anxious, like I was going to end up on that show, Locked Up Abroad. Have you guys seen that show? Everyone one should watch it. Focus on the country that you are going to and dive into that one. It will scare the shit out of you. Due to me watching so many episodes of that show, I was jumpy. My mate S was like, I do it all the time. I apparently, didn’t realize it but I was a bit of a Pollyanna.  But some things are just bad. PERIOD. I digress.

Getting back to mum. After she told me that feather story, I was worried that she would end up in prison doing stunts like that. I said, mum, one day your going to end up in prison. I would joke with her that she would be running the joint. She’d be the one, going around selling cigarettes to all of the inmates trying to make a profit. Being like, “Alice, you had two packs yesterday, you’re tapped for the week!” Alice would plead with my mum and she would say in a stern voice. “I can’t help you Alice, and get out of the line.

My mum would joke about this when I said it to her and would agree with me. I on the other hand would be the one, getting in fights. Getting back to the story, as I was walking through customs with my bag full of four bottles of vino, just off of the conveyor belt, I felt nauseous and scared. I wasn’t ready to go to prison for good Australian wine. I didn’t want my mom to go either, for that rare bird feather.

Suddenly the man in blue waved me through. I answered no, I have nothing to declare. I went down to the light rail and hopped on, grinning to myself, an hour later I found myself sitting in my flat drinking a nice big glass of Shiraz. Mom on the hand was in prison for that damn feather. Wearing a orange jumpsuit with her name Jackie on it in big black letters.

Nah, we both got off, scot-free. But, I will tell you that she would have run that prison.