The Runaway School Bus

Monday morning started out a little more stressful than usual this week. It wasn’t supposed to. After seemingly recovering from a nasty week of the H1N1 flu, my youngest son, Maxx  woke up with yet another high fever and sporting an odd red rash on his face.

I tried not to let that colossal worry get in the way of the fact that it was my other son Zach’s birthday. Poor Zach was turning a respectable 14 on a day when I couldn’t find my glasses (nothing new) and I had a hair-do that made me look like Kate Gosselin’s twin minus the 8, the money and the makeup.

The mission began. Bagel, cream cheese and kiss for Mya. Dig through the dryer for one of Zach’s favorite sweaters which was thankfully dry…considering I blew a fuse of some sort in the dryer and it only blows cold air. You know, what the hell. I haven’t fixed that yet…don’t even know how. The dryer is two years old and blows cold air. Maybe I should get my ex over here to blow some hot air. Or he could just belly up to the child support bar and pay so I could afford to fix the dammed dryer. Oh, wait, he disappeared again and didn’t even surface on his son’s birthday. Note to self: Re-name ex husband ‘sperm donor’.

Wow. I sound really bitter. Sort of funny. I’m not. Just venting.

I haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.

Maxx was now bundled up on the couch and I put a call in to his pediatrician. Gave Zach a birthday hug and kiss and promised to have plenty of buffalo wings ready after school … and the chocolate cake. Shoot. I hadn’t made that yet. The to-do list was growing.

Zach left for school at 7:25. His bus typically arrives between 7:30 and 7:35 if the driver doesn’t stop at Dunkin’ Donuts for a cup of caffeine. I appreciate that because I’ve seen some of the school bus drivers in action around here. It’s not exactly a “oh my kid is safe” feeling.

On Mondays Zach totes his 8 pound guitar, heavy amp and books to school for music. It’s an easy 10 block walk to the bus stop, but for a 14 year old who had bone-graft surgery on his arm this past summer, he has to carry it all with one arm. Usually I drive him but with Maxx sick, it wasn’t an option.

Here’s my favorite part.

Twenty minutes later I see the guitar toting birthday boy walking up to the back door.

“You missed the bus? You were early!”

“The bus missed me, Mom”

“What are you talking about, Zach?”

“Serious, Mom. Everyone was waiting and the bus blew past us. Then it went past the next stop. I waited another 10 minutes thinking she’d come back but she didn’t.”

It’s November. You’d think the bus driver would know the route by now and it’s pretty obvious that when a bunch of teens are standing on the corner at 7:30 in the morning it’s not their own choice. No teenager I know likes to stand outside at 730 am, never mind wake up that early.

I called the school and I already had my “don’t mess with me” attitude in full swing.

“What do you mean the bus missed him?”

“Exactly what I said. The bus went past a crapload of students at their normal bus stop. Seems like she was in a hurry and forgot them. NOW I have to drive my son in and I’m not really happy about it. My other son is very sick, my gas tank is likely on empty and now I have to deal with irresponsible people who are allowed to drive my kids around? I’m so done with Monday.”

The other end of the phone was silent. The poor school secretary. She wasn’t happy it was Monday either, I’ll bet.

“I will call transportation and see what the problem is.”

“Great. In the meantime, my son is going to be late. If he’s marked tardy I’m going to be riding that bus tomorrow and the bus driver can explain to me why she made my son late. I mean, I lose my glasses daily but I don’t whizz by my kids. This is nuts.”

“Thank you for letting us know.”

Of course, I hung up and childishly said “Thank you for letting us know” about 10x. Zach, birthday boy and man o’ the house, calmly said, “If it will save you on gas, I could just stay home.”

“Time to get in the car.”  There will be no staying home. I was fired up. It’s not even PMS week. Imagine. How dare this bus driver ruin my son’s birthday. I was ready to blame her for everything. It just felt right.

So, off I went in the taxi/ambulance/grocery-getter and dropped off Mya and then Zach at their respective schools. On the way, I talked to Maxx’s pediatrician and she told me to bring him in.

I realized I was in pajamas. So was Maxx. He’s 11 and sick. No big deal there. Thankfully I wasn’t wearing my Fredericks of Hollywood get-up that I usually sleep in alone. Kidding.

I found my worn out baseball hat in the car. There were small miracles. I also obsessively brush my teeth every time I walk by the bathroom so at least I had that covered.

Back from the doctor a few hours later with H1N1 Maxx back on the couch…xrays were clear…he was just having a long case of this swine thing. Poor kid.

The phone rings. It’s the truancy officer at Zach’s school.  That’s right. He’s been reported late for school.

“You might want to check with the office. He missed the runaway bus this morning.”

Confirmed. Zach would not be marked late. Good idea. One less person for me to yell at. Time to call the Cranston School Department.

The woman at the other end of the phone answered ever so politely, “Yeah, transportation. Can I help ya’”

Where the hell do I live? Can I help ya? Ack.

“Yes, you can help me. You can tell me why the bus driver of Bus #4 went flying by my son’s stop today and made him late for school.”

“Ma’am, we’re aware of that situation.”

“Well that’s a no-brainer. I reported it.  I want you to tell me what happened.”

“Listen, don’t be so upset about this. We had a substitute bus driver today and she didn’t know where she was going. She had a child telling her the route and the child wasn’t sure what the stops were.”

Repeat that?

“Am I clear when I heard you just say that you have children telling bus drivers where to go? She’s a bus driver who doesn’t know where she’s going? Is her regular job lunch lady and you needed someone to fill in?”

“Ma’am, it was a mistake. She did realize she missed the streets once we called her and she drove back to get the kids. Unfortunately no one was there.”

Ya’ think? She apparently didn’t realize she went back 35 minutes later. Kids don’t wait 35 minutes for a bus. Adults don’t either as far as I know.

There was, of course, no solution to this malarkey. It wasn’t high on my agenda to keep calling people and harassing them about this get away bus driver who employed a child to get her around. A sick child, a chocolate cake to make and a much needed shower was more important.

At the end of the day, the bus driver who needed GPS was great dinner conversation. Zach enjoyed the remainder of the buffalo wings that I made him on Sunday.  Maxx made it to the table long enough to have birthday cake with us. Mya entertained everyone with her really funny school papers that just reek of her Mom’s often tilted sense of humor (who me?).

Zach blew out all 13 candles on the cake instead of 14….because I could only find 13 of them in the “stuff we don’t always need to use” drawer. No complaints on his part. After all, we did sing a dammed good Happy Birthday to him and what’s a missing candle after a day that was just a little nuttier than usual?