Customs at Shannon.

My aunts and uncles were infamous for their flatulence. I remember one fart in particular.

We were at the Shannon airport and only minutes away from hopping the KLM to wing back across the ocean. It was 1958. I was 12

I saw a Shillaleigh for sale. My aunt gave me the money to buy it.

I got in line but inadvertently got on the wrong side of the customs rope. I bought the shillalleigh and headed back to my aunt who was only a few feet away when I was stopped by a customs agent who asked me if I had my passport. I didn't have it  on me and the agent decided to be a prick and not let me cross to the other side of the line. A commotion started; an international dispute.

My aunt Rose began arguing with the customs guy but she wasn't getting anywhere,matter of fact things were getting worse. A small crowd began to gather.

Rose did have her secret weapon though.

She passed gas, silent but deadly.

The crowd began to react to the change in the air quality with Rose reaxcting most dramatically

Rose began making faces and pointing at the customs guy, blaming him for the noxious odor. The gathering crowd, already on my side, started blaming the customs guy for the foul air. He started denying it and pointed back at Rose. Rose had done this trick many times before and she was very good at feigning innocence. She had been blaming her brother and sisters for years, eventually her classmates, her teachers, the parish priest and even her bosses at Kodak.

The crowd believed her and started yelling at the customs guy who started yelling back at the crowd declaring his innocence. The commotion was enough to cause a distraction at which point Rose signalled me to cross over to the correct side of the customs line which I did taking my new walking stick with me.

When I got to the other side, the American customs guy asked for my passport which Rose gave to him while still gagging at her creation that was now bing credited on the Irish customs guy. Everybody was yelling at the guy including the customs guy on our side who was disgusted by the behavior of his workmate on the other side. He defended me and told the other guy to wash his underpants.

I was safe. I was headed for home.

I had my souvenir.

Ten minutes later we were boarding the plane. Our fellow passengers were cheering for us.

We were heroes.