As sad as I might be that school is over, I am beyond ecstatic about one thing. I don’t have to go to the bus stop for 108 days!!! (I don’t know if that’s an accurate tally of the number of summer vacation days – I got it from Phineas and Ferb.)
I don’t know why, but it’s almost as though God is punishing me for
being a “mean girl” in highschool and kissing other people’s boyfriends something. Why else would I be forced to start every day by being woken up by some horribly produced CT morning show on the clock-radio, get my kids ready for school, and then stand around with a bunch of assholes…..and their wretched parents.
You might think this is harsh – but walk a mile in my coffee-stained wife beater and “Juicy” sweatpants (this is my “bus-stop uniform”.) There are 10 kids at the stop and one is more obnoxious than the next. Meanwhile the parents all stand around like Lenny from “Of Mice and Men”; just clueless morons, sipping their coffee, oblivious to their bratty children who are whining, pushing, and using their backpacks as weapons to knock people down with.
One father frequently stands in line with the kids, at the request of his son, who only speaks in “whine.” Literally, EVERY WORD out of his mouth is spoken with a whiney, nasally tone that makes me want to gouge out my eyeballs. Then I have to look at this 6 ft. tall, 100 lb father with his feathered-down-the-middle hair and pleated khakis, pretending he is in line for the bus. Really dude? He just sips his coffee while “Whiney” says,
“Michael, my Dad is in line and you can’t cut him.”
“Michael, you can’t go in front of my Dad.”
“Michael, my Dad is going on the bus and you can’t sit with him.”
I want to scream Shut up!! Nobody cares about your nerdy father and nobody wants to sit on a bus with a grown-ass man who pretends he’s in Kindergarten going on the bus. STFU!!!
Imagine waking up every morning and having to watch this guy pretend he's going to take the bus to kindergarten.
Another kid, Adrian, isn’t so bad at the actual bus-stop, but saves his antics for the moment when they actually board the bus. He won’t let anyone sit next to him and has been known to call my son a “loser.”
Little does he know that he is on his way to becoming a hard-core loser with a capital “L.” Also, his mother, who got knocked up with him at an early age, still lives at home with her parents, chain-smokes at the bus stop and wears Birkenstocks and Old Navy Christmas pajama pants ALL DAY and YEAR-ROUND is already a “LOSER.”
I am sorry – it is bad enough I have to look at you and your rotten kid with his tangled hair and dirty fingernails at the crack of dawn, but pilly “performance fleece” with Santa on it, in May, is highly offensive. Of course your kid is troubled, I mean the pants alone could send someone over the edge.
How would you like to look at a crazy person every morning in these pants? EVERY. MORNING.
The last day of school I volunteered for my son’s Kindergarten picnic at the park. While all the kids were running wild, Adrian was standing under a tree, crying. The next time I looked over, my son the biggest “bleeding heart” you will ever meet, is talking with him. I went over to see what was going on.
“Mom, Adrian is crying because nobody will play frisbee with him. ” Michael said desperately.
“Ok – Adrian, just ask someone to play or go on the playground or something,” I said dismissively, trying to wrap this little episode up so the day didn’t have to be ruined.
Michael was distraught. “No Mom, he asked everybody to play and they said “No.” He ran over to a kid playing frisbee to delegate the task of playing with Adrian.
My son was born with an incredible gift of empathy and compassion for others. (He didn’t get it from me – I would have left that kid like a hot potato under the tree…..I probably would have even snuck over to say “Who’s the loser now?”)
I saw Michael pointing to me and Adrian, trying to convince the frisbee player to play with Adrian. The kid looked over, made a face, shook his head “no”, and kept playing frisbee. My son returned, shrugged his shoulders and said,
“OK – Adrian – I guess I have to play frisbee with you.”
I was so proud of my son. Adrian wiped his tears and ran off with Michael to play frisbee for like 20 minutes.
When we were walking back to school, I told him how proud I was. He said “Now maybe he won’t be mean to me on the bus anymore!”
I said, ”Well, if he is – you remind him of today.”
Later that day, “I was back at the
torture zone bus stop – and Michael comes off the bus holding his cheek. “I bumped into Adrian by accident and he got mad and started hitting me – and I said ‘Remember today when you were sad and I played with you?’ and he didn’t care and kept hitting me…so I hit him back.”
My blood boiled. I looked over and Adrian was crying, holding his eye and telling his mother that Michael hit him.
I said loudly in my fake “nice mommy voice” – “OK – boys next time use words!” and walked away from the bus stop for the last time of the school year – thank Jesus.
When we were walking home I said, “Good job for punching him back and next time – leave him under the tree where he belongs.”
See you in September “LOSERS!!” Hooray for SUMMER!!!!!!
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I am linking up with Carri Ann at Adventures in Mommyhood!
Since this is pretty much a rant about how much I can’t stand people I’m Reposting to Shell:
And it conveniently matches up with MAMA KAT’s WRITING PROMPT
about pet peeves I have about how parents raise their kids!!!