Every morning Jon takes Isobel to the school bus. He loves to take her and she loves the time with Daddy. The Wednesday after the blackout school was delayed for 2 hours, so taking Isobel to the school bus became my responsibility. Two hours after her normal scheduled pick up time I walk out to the bus stop with all the kids in tow. About 10 minutes after the bus should have been there I start to worry. Do buses run when there's a delay? Can I successfully add 2 and 8? With all of these thoughts filling my mind and panic setting in, the bus comes around the corner... the wrong corner.
Although it was coming from the wrong way and there were no other children on the bus, I dutifully have Isobel cross the street and board the bus. As she climbs the stairs the driver waves at me and I realize that it is not her normal driver. The bus pulls away and I realize it is not her normal bus number. I rationalize all of these oddities with the fact that there is much upheaval due to the blackout. Downed power lines make it difficult to maneuver the area, so a different route is not unbelievable. The gas shortage (due to the power outage) may cause a shuffle of busses depending on gas levels. It is likely that some of the drivers are still without power, leading to sub drivers. All of these things make perfect sense to me... until I walk in the house.
All of a sudden my paranoid, panicky mind starts to go into overdrive. Maybe I should just call and confirm all of my thoughts with the transportation department. I would feel much better knowing that Isobel got on the right bus and I would be able to enjoy the rest of the morning. Unfortunately, they did not have power at the district office, so after two attempts I realize I will not be getting through to the transportation folks.
I wait a bit and decide to call Jon. He will set my panicky mind at ease. Not so, in fact after relaying my story, Jon's reply is "So, you followed the bus to make sure she got to school?” OMG!!! Now, my panic is in full motion. I mean if even-tempered, rational Jon thinks it is suspicious, it must be.
I immediately call the school. Afraid I will sound a little like a psycho parent I rationally tell the school secretary the story. She says she will forward me to the transportation people. I kindly say that I have already tried, but there is no answer. I then suggest that I am really only afraid that she got on the wrong bus and will end up at the wrong school. The secretary replies that she will check with Isobel's teacher and make sure she is at school...
"I'm sorry, but she is not in class."
PANIC!!!
Some psycho child killer must have bought a school bus from the district and picked up my daughter. She is being tortured right now as I sit here talking to the school secretary. Who do I call and say that my daughter is being tortured by a psycho with a school bus.
The calm secretary is talking to me, but I have no clue what she is saying... I start to babble about how I am sure she is fine and perhaps the bus is just taking longer. She asks for my number and says she will call the Transportation cell and emergency line and call me right back. Wait... did she say EMERGENCY! I am really starting to freak out, my peripheral vision has blurred and my cheeks are starting to burn.
"Oh wait, just a second." She says politely... just a second is she crazy. My baby is in the clutches of some school bus psycho. After a three hour wait (okay three second), she comes back on the line.
"She just walked into class, so she is here now. Can I help you with anything else?"
"No thank you." I manage to squeak out before hanging up the phone and collapsing into tears.
Easily the worst 4 minutes of my entire life!
After drying my eyes and teaching myself to breathe again I call Jon to tell him the story. He gasped in all the right places and played the daddy role very well. He was insanely mad that I put Isobel on the bus with no regard for her safety.
All ended well, but now I have a new picture in my mind. It never, ever occurred to me that school districts selling old busses could be used for mayhem.
I will never look at a school bus the same way again.
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