The Bus Did Me In

Simon’s first day of school last week. Hmmm…nope, the week before that. Oh well, dates are really just numbers. The important things are the events that happen on them. I was fine about him going to school, not really upset or missing him – he had a very good year in K and this year was the new school, the oh-so-special gifted school. Which really is quite an awesome school, as far as schools go.

But I was unprepared for the bus. Simon was super excited. He wanted to ride the bus last year, but we (thank my lucky stars) lived too close. So it was a non-issue. This year however he and Aaron won out – he got the transportation bus route card a few weeks before school started. Aaron loved riding his bus to school. I hated mine. If there was a word greater than hate, I would use it here. Maybe it was because I was a girl? Maybe because I was on a route that wound around every back road in the county before getting to school? Maybe because we stopped at houses that you thought had been deserted years ago to pick up very dirty (smelly) disagreeable children? Maybe because my bum was pinched day after day as I got off? Maybe because the kids on my bus were so poorly behaved that daily the bus driver pulled over to the side of the road to wait and wait for them to all sit down and be quiet? Maybe because once a month they were SO bad that we drove BACK to the school and then the principle would come in and YELL at us all? I have alot of reasons to despise the bus.  I even wrote a poem about the bus once. I called it a Big Yellow Monster. But Simon loves it.  

So when the bus pulled up I felt that familiar feeling of dread beginning in the pit of my stomach. As Simon kissed me good-bye I felt it creeping up my throat and tightening and as that monster roared away with my little boy on board…oh the sorrow. I wanted to run home and jump in my car, chase it down and demand it to return him to me. But Simon loves the bus. So I didn’t.