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Isn’t the greeting you hear the most beautiful thing you have ever heard? I have kept a phone card with no minutes on it in my wallet for well over seven or eight years now just to hear that voice.
Month: September 2004
A September Tribute to the Beginning of the School Year
I rode a yellow school bus to school like many of you probably did. In first grade my bus driver’s name was Schmitty and he used a whistle that he would blow fiercely every time we got too loud. Also, I don’t think he had any teeth. I remember him being old as dirt, but then again, I was six.
I don’t remember any other of the bus drivers who took me to school. But I do remember the havoc we wreaked on them. One prank in particular stands out…
There were these older, cooler kids on our bus (eighth-graders, I’m sure… Michelle and her cute brother) and they led all of us who of course followed along in the hopes of looking cool. We waited until one particular sharp turn on our bus route and we all hopped onto the same side of the bus. The hope was to make the bus tip over no it’s side, which it did not. However, we did get the bus onto two wheels, which is an impressive feat, I think.
In retrospect, I cannot figure out why tipping over the bus would have been a good idea, although it would have been fun to brag about and would have irritated the driver. But it also would have prolonged out day. On the bus, no less. But then again, hindsight is 20/20.
A September Tribute to the Beginning of the School Year
School’s back in session and since I’m not in it, I’m happy. Why? Because that means my little friends are back at their bus stop. There are these two little boys who are either twins or very close in age who wait at a Metro stop that’s on my way to work. Last year their dad would wait, very tired looking, with them. Tired perhaps because these two kids have gobs of energy and literally would run in circles around their dad pretty much every morning last year. (Except for when the cicadas came – then they threw bugs at each other.) This year they get to wait by themselves. (My, how they’ve grown!)
Watching them harass each other reminds me of my own waits at the bus stop… Everyday I would leave for school in my uniform (green and navy plaid jumper with a white peter-pan-collared shirt and knee socks – wool or cotton were cooler than the nylon ones my mom preferred). And I would have my socks pulled up to my knees to please my mom. As soon as I crested the first hill, I would roll the socks in doughnuts around my ankles – tre’ chic.
When my sisters started joining me at school, there was a careful balance of conduct at the bus stop. Like the boys I pass on the way to work, I harassed the heck out of them, and them me. But we were the only ones who could do it to each other. Once a boy told my sister that she looked like she had gotten hit in the face by a 2” by 4” since her face was so flat. I, big sister that I am, and witty to boot, turned to him and said (and this is an exact quote), “Oh yeah! Well, if I had a dog that looked like you, I would shave his butt and make him walk backwards!”
