The boys started school yesterday. Tuesday went off without a hitch. We were up and ready to go, arriving at the school about 30 minutes early. We hadn’t done a trial run, so we had no idea how long it was going to take to get across town during rush hour. It takes about 15 minutes. We drove around the block a few times and dropped them off at the correct drop-off time. I went in and observed for a few minutes, kind of getting the lay of the land so to speak.
Lincoln and Wyatt have never been afraid of new people, places or experiences. They usually jump right in and make themselves at home. Their classroom was no exception. I think this is going to be really really good.
Today was supposed to be the first day on the bus. We knew in advance the bus was probably going to be late because of snow, new route, etc. We knew not to expect the bus at the scheduled pick-up time.
I still had everyone ready to go at that time and when we hit that magic minute, I excused myself to the front porch to watch and wait while the boys played inside with Yogi dad.
And waited some more.
Then I called their teacher to see if she had any info. She was just about to call- the bus is running extremely late today but it should be here within a few minutes.
By this point we are all on the porch, waiting. It’s about, of, 4 degrees outside. so, kinda cold.
Finally (about 10 minutes later) we see a bus! and it’s a short bus! And it’s on our street!
Wait a minute. Why is it stopping at the end of the block? Do they have the wrong address? Certainly this isn’t a coincid- what is going on now? Why are their people getting OFF the bus? WTH?
Yogi Dad takes off down the sidewalk to investigate- this has got to be our bus.
My phone rings. It is indeed our bus. It just happened to be hit by someone who ran a stop sign at the end of our block.
Oh. Sweet. Jesus.
It’s now quite late and the boys are now quite cold, what with sticking their bare hands into the snow (I don’t know why they do it) and the 4 degrees with a bit of a wind.
We quickly decide to throw them in the car and send them on their merry way. They aren’t happy campers as we load them up, but they quickly get over it. So I am told.
So. No pictures of them triumphantly getting on the bus for the first time. I suppose I can pretend next Tuesday.
I’m not good at suspending reality.