Back to School

Today I put my kids on the school bus (two buses, in fact) for the first day of school. This was Xavier's first day of kindergarten; I'm afraid there was much crying and carrying on when he climbed on the bus, quite the scene. Luckily, I managed to pull myself together before I got to work.

No, seriously, the kids were quite excited about the beginning of the school year. We were out waiting for the bus twenty minutes early (evidently, given when the bus arrived.) I stepped inside the house for five seconds to grab the camera, and came back out to see one of our neighbors pulling away as the kids chorused, "Goodbye!"

"Oh, was Mr. Ceguy saying hello to you guys?" I asked.

Xavier shrugged. "I don't know who the heck that was," he replied.

Note to self: More "don't talk to strangers" training, and must get the kids to know their neighbors better.

I took pictures of the kids until the batteries on the camera died. Adam and I stood outside with the kids, swatting insects and sweating, and finally a school bus came around the corner. It stopped in front of our house, and the driver said, as the kids clambered on board, "I really don't think this is your bus, but I can take them to school if you want."

I hesitated. There is a mystery bus that -- for some reason -- goes through our neighborhood even though it doesn't appear to pick anyone up here. I think maybe the driver has a phobia about that stretch of road that connects the two entrances to our subdivision, because it certainly isn't a short-cut for him to come through this way. The number on the side of the bus was 78; my kids are supposed to ride bus 14, but one thing we have learned over the years is, you can't actually trust the number on the bus. "Our kids are supposed to ride bus 14," I said.

"Yeah, this isn't their bus, but I can take them to school if you like."

I decided we'd better wait for their bus -- the last thing we needed was for their "real" driver to be confused over whether this was a "real" stop or not. Of course, in the meantime, the kids were already on the bus.

"You'd better come get them off," the driver said -- I guess he was afraid to tell them so himself -- so I did. The bus was nearly empty, and the kids were sitting together. "C'mon guys, this isn't your bus," I said.

They hopped off, amiable enough, and as bus 78 headed down the street -- on its mysterious mission -- bus 14 rounded the corner. Now, while bus 78 was nearly empty, the same could not be said of bus 14; as the kids climbed on board, the bus driver hollered, "Squeeze together and make room!" And to us, she commented, "There are a LOT of new kids this year." Kind of makes me wonder why bus 78 isn't our bus ...

When the bus pulled up at the end of the day, Xavier sprang off the bus as if catapulted and leapt into my arms -- I'm not even sure he touched the ground in between. "I had a GREAT day, Mom!" he shouted. Thank goodness.