Every time I go home to see my parents, I always seem to do something wrong with my US passport. For example, once I ran it through the wash just before we were to take a trip to nearby Istanbul.
It would have been one thing if I’d known where my Israeli papers were. Handing the border control officer a decidedly damp American ID, when he could tell that I held dual citizenship, is another. I barely made it on to my flight.
I wonder whether there would have been a problem if I’d had memorable sleeves for my passports like these. The eagle inscription is so in-your-face, it feels like it’s watching out for you.