We went to the Chilean Consulate this morning with passports, FBI background checks, medical records, bank statements, flight confirmations, eye of newt, and the blood of our firstborn.

Ken knew the appointment was going to go well when he found a parking spot right across the street. "I feel it! I feel it!" he started yelling when he was close to the spot. And then, "Bam, que?"

Io approached the desk when we got inside and explained in Spanish that we wanted to apply for our visas. She also asked the man to please excuse her parents because they only speak English. He was charmed, and it was smooth sailing from there. Visas in two weeks!