I was scrolling through old posts. and came across this one from 2009, and thought to myself, “I totally forgot about that morning!” But it was so typical me, I had to reshare… enjoy
Two things you should know about the morning bus pickup: the bus usually arrives between 8:50 amd 9am to pick up The Boy, and at 8:55am, I needed to use the bathroom in such a serious not-number-one kind of way that I was clutching my stomach and trying to avoid sudden motion.
Any reasonable person would have just gone into the house and used the bathroom, but like my stomach, I can sometimes behave unreasonably. I stood outside waiting for the bus because I just knew that if I went into the bathroom, the bus would arrive right when I sat down. And who can comfortably take the Browns to the SuperBowl when there’s a bus driver honking his horn outside?
So I’m standing out there, humming, trying not to think of phrases like “dropping the kids off at the pool” or “the turtle’s head is poking out”, and the minutes continue to p-a-s-s. My thoughts move towards regret. Why did I have that extra cup of coffee, why?!!!! I’m now fantasizing about running into the house and going to the bathroom, bus honks be damned! The Boy interrupts my thoughts and asks me if I’ll help him climb atop and walk along the two foot wall that separates our driveway from the sidewalk and street. “I can’t,” I say. “Mommy has to go potty.”
Well, more minutes continue to pass, and I decide the driver is clearly late and I have every right to go in and use the bathroom. So I walk inside, but still fearing the bus honk (it must be a mental thing — why do I fear it?), I call school transportation first to confirm he is running late and hasn’t instead forgotten us.
The transportation rep confirms my driver is runnning late and draws out our good-bye with helpful comments like “Let me see here, maybe I can find out when exactly he’ll get there, I just need to call–”
“No, no, it’s okay!” I say, hoping I don’t sound as hysterical as I feel, “I’ll just wait outside, gotta go, bye!” I hang up and make a run for the bathroom, where I do my business to the tune of The Boy knocking on the door and saying things like, “Mommy what are you doing?” “Are you going poo poo?” (followed by snickering) and “Mommy are you done yet?”
Ah, glorious world of parenting.
No sooner do I finish up than the phone rings. It’s bus transportation and they tell me the driver is outside my house, where he has been for five minutes.
I rush to the front with The Boy and there is nothing on the street. I call transportation back, and the rep is like, “He is out there right now waiting for you.”
I say, “I’m standing outside, and I can see up and down the street. There is no one here.”
More of those walkie talkie sounds that I always hear in the background when I call school transportation. She gets back on and says, “Sorry, I guess he wanted us to tell you he was on his way. He’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
Ten minutes come and go. It is now 9:30, the time when Kindergarten starts.
I call transportation again. “Hey, is the bus coming here?”
Pause of silence. “He’s not there yet?”
About 9:45pm, the bus finally arrives. Mr. Bus Driver explains that the big hold up was on account of a jammed wheelchair ramp. He had to wait for someone to bring him a replacement bus. “I hope this didn’t cause any problems for you,” Mr. Bus Driver says.
And what does The Boy say?
“Mommy really had to go potty.”
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