I’m writing this from my dining room table, not the Seminole County Jail. Since returning home from Alaska last week, I’ve been catching up on everything – laundry, sleep, correspondence, sleep, grocery shopping, sleep, and one bit of business that my mom, who lives with us, saved for me to do for her.

While we were away, Seminole County Supervisor of Elections had postcards delivered to verify our street addresses and signatures. Mom’s was a little different because she likes to vote by mail. She signed the card verifying the address and I sent it off for her. It was also time to re-up her request for a mail-in ballot. I tried to do it online, but encountered a glitch (truth be told, I put in my dad’s last four instead of hers) and couldn’t complete the form. They are very picky about getting the facts straight, and I’m glad.

I got my numbers straight, but still the site wasn’t cooperating, so I went old-fashioned and used the phone. Mom prefers for me to make her appointments and handle things like this for her as she does not have a smart phone, and those flip phones are exhausting to operate. Usually, I just say I’m her and take care of business. It’s easier and she doesn’t care. Her dermatologist doesn’t care; Walgreens doesn’t care; her hairdresser doesn’t care. But apparently the Seminole County Supervisor of Elections Office cares.

When their office answered my call with “who am I speaking with,” I gave my mother’s name. I tried not to sound too peppy because Mom is 97. I answered all their questions just fine until they stumped me and I needed Mom’s help. As I was walking into Mom’s room, the conversation went like this:

Me – “I’m sorry. I’m lying to you. This isn’t really Pauline, it’s her daughter. Mom can’t handle the prompts of press this number or that because she has a flip phone. I’ve just walked into where she is. Mom, please state your name.”

We were met with silence, obviously hung up on. You know how when you accidentally give someone misinformation and then you realize it and say, “Oops, I’m lying,” and set it straight? Perhaps one shouldn’t do that when dealing with anything to do with a political election.

I tried their website again, but it continued to glitch, so I had no recourse but to call, this time with Mom by my side and we set the record straight. I even told the woman who answered this call what had happened, and she seemed understanding. Perhaps she cares for a nonagenarian like I do. Either way, Mom is all set up to vote by mail in the next general election.

As the day went on, I thought better of impersonating my mom by phone when dealing with government agencies. Those thoughts rang loud and clear when a knock came on our front door mid-afternoon. We weren’t expecting anyone, and we’re in the back of our neighborhood, so we don’t get many drop-ins. So naturally I thought, it could be someone from the Supervisor of Elections coming to take me in. Thankfully, it was a friend bringing flowers to my mom. I’ll keep her in mind in case I need a character reference down the road.