USA Swimming needs to see my 8 year-old's birth certificate. You know, to confirm that he isn't actually a 24 year-old Chinese woman.
And, of course, I failed to find said birth certificate on my first pass through the stash o' junk that I keep in my office. I did find a manila envelope stuffed with a bunch of receipts from a trip to DC that we took in 2004. Hey, I figured out that I was pregnant with the kid on that trip! Unfortunately, none of the receipts reflect that epiphany.
I'm confident that I had to prove that he exists once before: last I checked, he was enrolled in school. However, his "school records" file seems to have disappeared into the ether. (Of course, I found the equivalent file for his brother IMMEDIATELY, because that wasn't the one I was looking for.)
Clever Spouse has offered to procure a copy from the registrar of the elementary school. In the interim, I am tempted to send the admin manager of our swim team one of the several date-stamped ultrasound pictures that I found on my work computer. Because, you know, THOSE I keep readily available.
Proof that I was pregnant with the child in the summer of 2004 is proof enough, right? USA Swimming can do the math from there. Or have their friends at Omega crunch the numbers for them. Those guys build the timers, they can totally figure out the approximate birthdate of a fetus in utero who was 20 weeks-ish in early June.