It's almost the end of the school year, and summer vacation is nigh.
You've woken up at the crack of dawn Monday through Friday to drive a bus that breaks down occasionally and doesn't always have working A/C. You've seen my three oldest kids every day, twice a day, for the last 9 months.
And I just have one thing to say: I am so sorry.
I'm sorry for all the mornings you've had to idle at the corner waiting for one (or all) of my children to complete the 50-yard dash to the bus stop.
I'm sorry for the many, many belongings they've left on the bus, including but not limited to:
- shoes, jackets, and gloves
- school projects
- backpacks and lunchboxes
- musical instruments
- art supplies
- hair accessories
- funky-looking plush animals
- assorted books
- Ziploc bags containing owl pellets
We realize that your bus is not a storage facility or a satellite office for their locker at school.
I'm sorry for the afternoons you've had to circle back at the end of your route because my kids were sleeping/reading/daydreaming and forgot to get off at our stop.
(It does, however, make me feel better knowing that they're not acting completely absent-minded at home just to bug me.)
I'm sorry for the time my son was running screaming for the bus, concerned that he'd miss it, only to trip and fall twice on his way causing him to scream even more, and I just yelled encouragement to him through the window.
I was afraid that if I ran out there in my pajamas and rat's nest hair I'd make it look even more like an episode of Cops than it already did.
I'm sorry for all of the unearthly shrieking I'm sure my kids have done on your watch over the last year. It's not easy being trapped in a minivan with 5 kids who think that life is a contest and the loudest one wins; I can't even fathom an entire bus full of them.
Until next school year,