I feel like it's becoming "all kidlet, all the time" around here, but you must realize that he is the only other human being that I spend any significant amount of time with (except for my co-workers, of whom, trust me, it's better not to speak). Here, then, is your kidlet related story of the day.
We were waiting at the corner for the school bus, as usual, with the nice mommy from down the street and her adorable kindergardener. The school bus pulled up with a great whoosh and the yellow doors swung out, and we kissed our little ones and up the stairs they went. And the nice mommy gives the bus driver a Christmas card. A Christmas card personally handmade by the adorable kindergardener. The bus driver's face lit up. He was pleased. He was touched. How nice! How thoughtful! I, on the other hand, was not so pleased.
Do we have a lovingly handmade card for the bus driver? Oh no, we do not. Do we even have a cheesy store-bought card? Again, no. We don't even have cards for our beloved friends and family, why would anyone think that I could get my act together enough to be thinking of the school bus driver? People, I wish I could tell you that I was at least planning on getting the bus driver a card, but the truth is, it never even crossed my mind. And for this, I at least have the decency to feel guilty. I mean, this bus driver has waited at the corner a good long while as the kidlet and I came huffing and puffing up, backpacks flouncing behind us. This bus driver has stopped, mid-block, in order to pick us up when we've come rushing late out of the house. He is always extra-nice and courteous. He deserves a thoughtful gesture. Yet, I'm afraid that I will fail him.
I am going to have to pull the single mom card on this one. Not only does the nice mommy down the street have a partner to help her with stuff like buying groceries and scrubbing toilets and earning the money, but she is also a SAHM. Which, we all know, is damn hard work. That is not my point. My point is that she has many more hours at home with her little one during which they may make beautiful, thoughtful, handmade cards for school bus drivers. I am lucky if I can get the kidlet fed, his homework done, and his pajamas on before it is bedtime, much less trying to do any sort of fun or educational or socially obligatory activity together. If you recall, we did hand make our Valentines last year and we were up until about eleven o'clock doing it. I'm still finding bits of doily in the corners of the house. So all you people who have had your Christmas shopping done since October can just kiss my overwhelmed ass. And Mr. Bus Driver, if you happen to pretend to not see us the next time we don't quite make it to the bus stop on time, I completely understand.
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