Hey Mr. Driverman, Don't Be Slow

School started back up for my kids on Monday, which added an extra layer of nuts to last week. My kids are on a year-round schedule, in case you've forgotten, never knew, or didn't care. Getting two monkeys children ready for school is a bit hectic, even if it wasn't me who was meeting up with the new teachers and all that shizz.

On Mondays and Tuesdays, my wife works early shifts so that she can get her shit done at the store before people start coming in asking for vampire books for teenage boys and such. This leaves me with the task of getting the kids ready and off to the bus stop for pick-up and delivery. Not a problem, right? A monkey can do that. More or less.

Well, my friends, I am not a monkey!

Last year, the bus would show up around...8:25. Ish. Some days it would be 8:23, some days it would be 8:40. You just never knew. That's what we call "excitement". Who wants a boring, mundane start to their day? Apparently, not me.

I assumed that the bus would show up around the same time this year, too. I mean, for my entire youthful schoolboy experience, the bus always showed up at exactly the same time. And when I got to high school, the bus was exactly one hour earlier. Not much of a shift in the morning routine.

So, like a good father, I got my children all gathered up and out the door by 8:12 so that we would be at the bus stop plenty early for the bus. We get there, we stand around. A little while later, here comes the bus! Awesome!

Except...it was a different bus number from last year. Not to mention it came down the road banging and grinding and roaring loudly. And with a different bus driver. And this guy...looked a little bit like he had just escaped from Arkham, if you know what I'm saying.

But, this is the only school running a bus route right now, so this must be the correct bus, right? I load the kids on the bus and stand there waving. As I stood there waving, the bus passed on down the road and I realized that there were no other children on the bus.

Curious, I thought to myself. And then I began walking toward my car.

And then my overactive imagination kicked in.

Jesus Christ, what have I done??? I internally monologued. Did I just put them on the 'Pervert Bus'? Am I going to be an evening news special now? 'Tonight, on the six o'clock news...every parent's nightmare!!! And it happened, right here in North Carolina!'

Being that I'm an awesome father, I shrugged it off. I went about my day. I didn't think of it again until it was time for them to come home. So, I called to make sure they were okay. Normally, they get home around 4:00, so I figured I'd call around a quarter after. Except, they weren't home.

Oh, no! Every. Parent's. Nightmare! I was going to have to brush up my unintelligible Southern drawl for the interview. Maybe I'd have to scare up a wife-beater to wear. And a John Deere hat.

Finally, around 4:35, they arrived home. Safely. Somewhat soundly. Everything seemed to be in good order.

Fast forward to Tuesday. This time, I got up earlier than normal, showered and got prepped for the day. I got the kids up, got them going, and everything was good. Eight o'clock rolls around, and we're screwing around watching tv because we have extra time because I got up early like a good, responsible adult!

Just before it's time to go, my daughter realizes that she hasn't put in any earrings, and so she dashes up the stairs to put them in. I'm in the kitchen pouring my cups of coffee when I feel a strange disturbance in the Force. I look at the clock. It reads 8:10, and it's accurate with the time on The Weather Channel. I walk into the living room and peer through the shades and see the bus...pulling away from in front of my house!!! I rush to the front door, swearing the whole way, and I throw open the door and stand on the front stoop, waving my arms furiously over my head. Quite the sight, I'm sure.

The bus continues on, ploddingly slow, as it rounds the corner and drives away.

"Sonuva..." I begin, but then I suddenly realize that, as well as having to drive them to school today, I am going to have to get gas before I do so.

At this point, I'm a leg up on my mother, who would have just called the school to tell them I was sick if I had missed the bus. Disturb my regularly-scheduled routine of sitting on the couch on the front porch monitoring the neighborhood for the sake of my children? NEVER!

"Dammit!" I utter, frenzied, unsure of how the timing is going to work out.

With earrings in her ear, I load the kids into the car and we're off! I throw half a tank of gas in my car and then we hurry off. Fortunately (and this is something I didn't take into account while doing the mental calculations around getting the kids to school in time) traffic is light because the regular schools are not yet in session, just the year-round schools. We get to school, I drop them off, and hurry on to work.

Fortunately, my wife is working a later shift today, so I could get up, shower, and get the hell out the door before anything untoward happened with the school bus.

And Now for Something Completely Different

Normally, on Thursdays (or, normal for the past couple of months), I tell you about some bodily function of mine that makes for somewhat amusing reading. Today, however, I'm going in a slightly different direction.

Yesterday, my youngest started school. While he was in "school" last year, that was pre-school, so he was really just along for the ride and was there so that he could figure out how to act around other people. Turns out, he fits in with the monkey troupe just fine.

Anyway, yesterday he went to kindergarten. He's at a year-round school, and his staggered entry was yesterday and today. So, we all got up, got dressed, got ready and walked him to the bus stop. After what seemed like forever, the bus finally showed up. I walked him around the front and led him to the steps. He got on, sat down, and waved and then drove away.

Me? I'm cool. My wife was all sorts of nervous for him. But, it turns out, he was just fine. He didn't get in trouble. He didn't get upset. He didn't get lost. In fact, he found his room all by himself without anyone helping him. Though he did admit that the kraken kind of frightened him when the boats were taking his class across the lake.

Apparently, he got back on his bus without incident and was delivered home safely. He bounded off the bus and then pranced home. We were worried about this second part, since we didn't know what bus he needed to be on. However, the night before we sent him off to school, we got a phone call from one Dr. Jordan, who assured us that our "baby would get home just fine." Apparently, Dr. Jordan sounded a lot like Bubby from Flapjack.

My son had a good day, played hard and made two new friends, Zachary and Enya. He says that Zachary is cool, but the girl has a tendency to sing songs about rivers in South America.

This made me hearken back to the days of yore, when I first went to kindergarten. I was in the last kindergarten class at Union Elementary School (home of the Aces). I had to walk up the street to get to my bus stop, in front of Amy and Jamie Randol's house. I got on the bus, went to school, and I remember sitting at the head of my table. Little did they know they were feeding my megalomania from a young age.

I sat at the same table as two of my cousins, and the aforementioned Jamie Randol. I remember it distinctly because someone from the local paper came in and took my picture. I was sitting there, flashing a dinosaur picture I had just colored to my cousin Jennifer, who could have cared less. She was bent over coloring her own picture, probably of Raggedy-Ann. My cousin Jennifer fuckin' loved her some Raggedy-Ann. I still have a couple of pictures of me in kindergarten. Maybe I'll scan them in and share them on a day when I feel like being made fun of. Well, moreso than normal.

Contrast my first day of kindergarten (and my sons, if you must) with my younger brother's (sis never went to school). He got on the bus, went to school, and came home. My mom asked him how it went and he responded, "Fine, but I'm not going back." Ah, yes, certain trends in life are set on the first days of school. I had my arrogance sated and my brother...well...some things are better left unsaid.

I even remember my kindergarten teacher: Miss Brown. She lived up the street from me. Apparently, when they closed Union Elementary (home of the Aces), she went to teach somewhere other than where I went to school for the remainder of my elementary and middle high school days. In fact, I had no idea where she was, other than she wasn't anywhere near where I was.

Fast forward a few years to when I was a member of the Liberal Media. I was writing a column about the goings on in my home town for the county paper. While I would often report just the facts, ma'am, I would also poke a little fun at how little went on in the town on a weekly basis.

And then, one night, I got a phone call (my number was listed in the column as the way to get ahold of me and pass along gossip information news). It was my kindergarten teacher, Miss Brown!!! I was excited...for about five seconds. She told me what a good job I was doing and how she enjoyed reading my articles...and then she ripped into me for making fun of small town America. Apparently, she was living in Chicago (or the west side of Chicago) and missed her life in Small Town, USA. And now she was yelling at me about it.

I assured her that I would lighten up on the bumblefucks who lived in town. Then the next week, we had perhaps the most inept bank robbery in the history of mankind go awry and the drama played out on the streets of my hometown. That's a story for a different day, but my reporting on this again painted the town in a rubish light. While I never got another phone call, I could feel the seething anger coming from the northwest. Let it go, Miss Brown. Anger and hatred lead to the Dark Side.

There you have it. I'm now the father of two school-aged children, which might or might not be an indication of middle age. And since everything I know about middle age I learned from watching American Beauty...where's the high school chick with the enormous forehead? I gots me some lust to slap around.