After an overnight flight to meet my father at his latest military assignment, my mother wearily arrived at Rhein-Main Air Base in Germany with my eight siblings and me — all under age 11. Collecting our many suitcases, the ten of us entered the cramped customs area. A young customs official watched our entourage in disbelief, Ma’am, he said, do all these children and this luggage belong to you? Yes, sir, my mother said with a sigh, they’re all mine. The customs agent began his interrogation: Ma’am, do you have any weapons, contraband or illegal drugs in your possession? Sir, she calmly answered, if I’d had any of those items, I would have used them by now.