I thought I would share a funny story about me for a change. I am actually having a hard time calling it funny because it just happened and I'm not ready to laugh about it yet. I still haven't gotten my breath back.
Every day John comes home on the bus. Normally the bus driver stops outside of each Kindergartner's house and an adult must be present before the kid is let off of the bus. Today the school had an early dismissal, so all of the kids from our neighborhood grades K-4 were on the bus as well. We received a couple of reminders this week that this would be the case and also to remind us that the bus would stop at the regular bus stops and not at each Kindergartner's house. I didn't forsee this being a problem because the bus stop is the driveway next door and John uses said bus stop to get on the bus every morning. Oh- AND the neighbors who live in the 'bus stop' house have two kids who were on the bus, one of whom is in John's class. So you can see why I wasn't really worried about this small change. I told John that he would be coming home with the same kids he rides to school with in the morning and that he would be a little later than normal. I neglected to tell him that he should get out when he saw our house.
Since this wasn't a normal day, and I wasn't sure when the bus would be arriving, I had the front windows open so I could hear the bus when it stopped right next door. I'm not sure I can stress enough just how close this bus stopped to our house. I was just getting Anders up from his nap when I heard the big diesel engine and the squeaky breaks. I quickly walked down the stairs and opened the front door so I could motion John inside for lunch. I saw a handful of kids getting off of the bus, including our neighbors and then turned my head for a split second to remind Gus for the umpteenth time not to empty his frog potty into the big potty because the contents of the potty ends up on the floor. Which is gross. Which is also one of the reasons why our house smells like a boys locker room.
Nonetheless, I turned my head back in just enough time to see the doors close and the bus pull away. I looked in the neighbors' driveway expecting to see John, but he was not there. I looked at the bus again and saw John sitting in the window seat of the first row. He even smiled at me. The neighbor kids started yelling at the bus driver to stop. She didn't hear them. Not knowing what else to do I put Anders down, shut the door and started running after the bus, praying I would catch it and that, in the meantime, my other two kids wouldn't get into something dangerous or destructive.
Now, as if this wasn't ridiculous enough, I must describe what I was wearing. During Anders nap I had taken a shower and started to get ready for work. I've gradually been losing weight, so I decided to try on a pair of jeans I haven't been able to wear in a long while. When they fit I was so pleased I decided to put on my cute, HEELED brown boots and a cute shirt that I also hadn't been able to wear for a while. I had been doing my makeup when Anders awoke so I only had half my face done and my hair was still wet from the shower. And yet, I still decided to run after the bus. My motherly instinct kicked in and I was going to run after my baby. Nevermind that the bus driver would have noticed that one kid remained on the bus after all of the stops had been made, or that this system was new to all Kindergartners, so she probably would have asked him where he lived. And, since John knows his address, he would have proudly told her where we lived. No, those thoughts escaped my brain and I was just running. Knowing I couldn't catch the bus by running behind, it I ran across the street and through some backyards to cut the bus off at the next street's stop. I was very thankful we live in a community that is open and very few people have fences. But I was not thankful at that moment for living in a community that has walkout basements, meaning I had to run down and then back up a steep hill on grass and in heels to get to the next street. I reached the sidewalk just as the bus zoomed by. Seriously!?!
I had no other choice. I had to catch the bus. So I started to run after it again, positive that it would stop soon. It did stop, but either those buses drive fast or I am a very slow runner, or maybe it was a combination of the two. The bus stopped, it let out a number of kids, I kept running and doing my best to shout to the kids coming off of the bus to tell the driver to stop. The kids just looked at me. They were probably wondering what this deranged lady was doing. The bus took off again and I started running faster. My saving grace came when a boy who lives only two doors down from me had gotten off of the bus on that very street. I don't know why he chose to get off of the bus farther from his house and I don't care. I was glad to see him. I asked him why John didn't get off of the bus and he said he didn't know but that he would get him. Off he went, a fourth grade speed racer.
So John got off of the bus and walked down the block to me. I didn't move after the neighbor boy went running. I was trying not to throw up and cursing myself for letting my body get so out of shape. I asked John why he didn't get off of the bus. With my forced breathing I must have sounded mad because had a tear in his eye and said he couldn't get out of his seat in time so he was just going to wait. He apologized the whole way home. I felt bad and told him I wasn't mad. I think he was feeling sorry for me because I was breathing heavy and limping. Once we got back on our street, I could hear the other two boys screaming from a few houses down. That is not always a good sign. I walked into the house and found Gus upstairs screaming out of the open window for someone to save him and Anders had made it halfway up the stairs and was dangerously close to falling. I scooped up Anders and noticed that he was all wet so now I was all wet. A quick sniff and spying of a puddle on the floor told me that, for some reason, my dog had peed on the floor and Anders had been playing in it. Gross, gross and more gross. What a day.
No comments:
Post a Comment