May the Road Rise to Meet You
Posted on May 19, 2007
Filed Under kids, parenting, suburban joys, snark |
I’ve been thinking a lot about Slouching Mom’s post on Riding the School Bus. I read it right after packing up my own brood and sending them off to ride seatbelt-less across town with a guy named Eddie at the wheel. (I think I’ve explained before that Eddie is a 40 year old man who belches into the bus PA system and brags that he can pick his nose with his tongue. I really hate to think about the applicants they turned down for this bus driving position considering Eddie was the pick of the bunch.)
I make this leap of faith everyday; after years and years of strapping their pudgy little bodies into Britax nests of indestructibility, carefully installed within my steel framed vehicle, painstakingly selected for its 15 airbags and anti-lock brakes. Why do I send them off with Eddie everyday to flit dangerously about the cavernous insides of a giant yellow school bus with the screeching brakes and the bald tires?
I like to think that the answer has something to do with letting go, something to do with my allowing for each child to achieve independence and personal growth; but even I know that’s total BS. The decision to throw my children in harm’s way is really driven by convenience and the fact that the school bus passes our stop some thirty minutes before they are actually required to be at school. I can see them off while still wearing my slippers and nursing a cup of coffee. Eddie’s chauffeur service allows me an extra half an hour a day. Yes, say it with me…thirty delicious minutes that I can lounge in my pajamas with halitosis and warm slippers and hot coffee.
Now, My Better Half thinks that riding the bus is a rite of passage, preparation for the real world beyond the protective familial cocoon. But I’m not sure it isn’t a version of Lord of the Flies playing itself out each day, a warm-up for the real cruelty and wicked competition they’ll encounter later in the day, during recess.
I know this is unsupervised time when children get to be spitefully mean and spectacularly ill behaved. How do I know this? Well, I went to school via bus back in the day and I’d gamble that not too much has changed since then. AND, there are some recent anecdotes I could tell to illustrate the point.
First there was G’s trouble staying seated and Eddie’s idle threats to write up a conduct report. We’ve jumped that hurdle and as far as I know, G has learned to keep her tiny bum planted in the green pleather seat she initially sits down upon, regardless of where Fiona Bryan and her fifteen Webinz are sitting.
Then there was the episode with the fourth grade boys teasing G about her nearly earning a bus write-up. Two boys with shaggy hair and dirt under their finger nails would sidle up to her towards the end of the ride and threaten to report her again while spinning tales about the principal’s office. According to G, these boys KNOW that when a child gets sent to the office for disorderly conduct on the bus, the principal gets so upset she punches the child squarely in the face. Only after two weeks of this torture did they seem to tire of it and its a good thing too. I was just fixing to march down to their bus stop and tell them my own tale about what happens to fourth grade boys who pick on Kindergartners and it has something to do with solitary confinement save for the starving cannibals.
And now we have O earning the title of bus bully. According to the very upset mother who called me immediately after HER kindergarten-aged daughter got home from school, my O had slapped her hand and called her an ‘idiot’ during the bus ride. Not sure how to respond to such an accusation, I was admirably apologetic, feigning outrage, exuding the stuff of accomplished and ambitious parent. “I’m very sorry that my son made such a bad decision, Mrs. Reactsalot. You can be sure we will have a discussion about conflict resolution and O will write a letter to your Darling Painintheass apologizing for his behavior. Rest assured this will NEVER happen again.” When I replaced the receiver, I even conjured a believable version of this accomplished and outraged parent for O’s sake, even though I knew that Darling Painintheass had been harassing him for days during the long journey home. And he wrote that letter with big, hot tears dripping down his face while I suppressed a tiny giggle remembering my own bus days and the demonic child that I had been. Sorry O, you’re destined to be just like your mother, inflated sense of justice, take no prisoners attitude, and all.
And where is Eddie during all this conflict and commotion you ask? He’s busy watching the speedometer as he hurdles down Ballardvale, tipping the bus up on two wheels while navigating hairpin turns. He announces the results of his daily time trials for all the children…”Damn only 55 MPH today. Yesterday was better. Yesterday, kids, it was smooth sailing - 67 MPH and no wandering dogs or mother’s strolling babies. Yesterday was a very good day.”
May the road rise to meet you, Eddie. And May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face…for you hold an extra thirty minutes in the blessed palm of your nose picking hand.
Comments
WordPress database error: [Can't open file: 'wp_comments.MYI' (errno: 144)]
SELECT * FROM wp_comments WHERE comment_post_ID = '221' AND comment_approved = '1' ORDER BY comment_date
Leave a Reply
