Wednesday, August 15, 2012

What's a FIB, you ask?

Some anonymous person posed this question the other day when I called the folks unable to finalize our adoption FIBs.

Well, friend, a FIB is a Fucking Illinois Bastard.

This endearing term is usually reserved for people driving like idiots in Wisconsin with Illinois plates, but I've extended its reach to include those who work in the court system in Illinois. They were last week, and continue to be, big fatty FIBs whose incompetence knows no bounds.

There are three documents that are needed for a judge to sign the papers making our adoption final, once and for all:

On the 2nd they couldn't find the original of one of them because they didn't look deep enough into the file...it was there but a few sheets below where it should be.

On the 9th they couldn't find the original of another form because it was misplaced.

On the 15th they couldn't find the original of yet another document because it was - you guessed it - misplaced.

We come to find out that the form that was missing on the 9th was found on the desk of a judge not even working on our case and had no business with it in the first place. Then, their search efforts today uncovered THREE (yes, three) separate files on our family explaining some of the errors that have taken place. Unfortunately, none of the three files included this final original document that was needed...only a copy. The fact that they had a copy proves that they did, in fact, have the original at one time but it fell off into some abyss between last week and this week.

I think they've earned their FIB status, don't you?

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If you are from Illinois and don't drive like a jag and aren't party to this adoption debacle, I don't inherently think of you as a FIB, just someone from IL. After all, one of the three people I love most in the world is from there :)

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