The Sixth Grade Bus

My younger son never rode a school bus until the sixth grade. He went to elementary school at a time where I could drive him since he had to be there at 7:40 and I went to work at 8:00. He stayed in the after school program until I got off. His fifth grade year, we had a horrible hurricane that destroyed his school and he had to go double sessions with another elementary school. He had school from 12:15 to 5:15. My mother had retired by then so I dropped him at her house and she got him to school. AFTER going to either Pizza Hut or Taco Bell most days (yep, she ruined him).

So, here comes middle school. Man, the kid was not happy about not hanginig with the grandma anymore, but he had to soldier on. Since middle school started at 9:00. he had to ride the bus.

His first day home, he told me he’d had his most embarrassing moment in his life. Concerned, I asked what happened. He was ashamed that an eighth grader had sat by him and asked him to put the window down. He had to confess that he didn’t know how. The eighth grader sighed deeply, reached over my kid’s head and jerked the window down.

I told the boy if that was the worst thing that ever happened to him, he was one lucky duck. He didn’t appreciate it. Imagine that.