The Wheels on the Bus

I rode the school bus from the time I was in Kindergarten until the end of my tenth grade year when I got my first car.  No, I wasn’t continuously on the bus those eleven years and if you thought that then you are obviously too literal.  I had the misfortune of being one of the first stops on the bus route in the morning and one of the last to be dropped off in the afternoon.  And, as I lived in a rural area, I was on the bus for about an hour and a half every day.  I lived only 15 minutes drive from the school.  You can tell my family cared enough about me to transport me to and from school. 

Anyway, that school bus ride every day wasn’t so bad.  Mostly I passed the time reading.  The social interactions one observes on the school bus are fascinating.  I remember a few snippets of the school bus scene.

I was in third grade and a high school girl offered to put makeup on me.  She drew a rainbow on my cheek with eye shadow.   All the other girls in third grade were jealous when I got to school.  The high schooler wasn’t even popular, but she was practically an adult to us, so it didn’t matter.

In fourth grade I had birthday money that I brought to school with me.  I didn’t spend much of it at snack time that day so I brought the rest back home with me in the pocket of my Members Only jacket.  I lay down on a seat on the school bus when about half of the kids had gotten off already.  I dozed off for a while and when I woke up I realized my money was gone.  I thought it must have dropped on the floor of the bus.  I heard high school boys in the back of the bus whispering and cutting up.  I just knew they had taken it.  A few years later, one of those boys would be responsible for breaking into our house while we were away.  That guy has robbed me twice.

When I was in middle school a new kid in elementary school sat beside me on the bus for most of the year.  We had been given assigned seats that year.  I wore a fanny pack most of the time (hey, it was acceptable then).  I pulled my walkman out of my fanny pack to listen to it.  The girl wanted to borrow it.  I let her borrow a tape.  I never got the tape back.  She said her brother took it.  You can’t trust a kid with your mixed tape.

I was in ninth grade.  We pulled up to the house of one of my fellow classmates.  His house was on fire.  He yelled out “Oh no, my underwear!”.  The bus driver called it in and drove the kid to his grandparent’s house.  I was afraid for a while after that of pulling up to my house one day only to find it on fire.

How much stuff goes on in a school bus that teachers and parents don’t know about?  Probably a lot.  I think I’d rather drive my kids to school.  Then they won’t get their birthday money stolen or see a friend’s house on fire.