It is the first week of school for Ben, and I am only just getting in gear. I scrounged to help him get breakfast and soon realized there was no milk for cereal. I toasted the last piece of bread and poured the dregs of the orange juice into a glass. Then we waited at the road for forty minutes. Apparently the bus driver is new and had trouble
finding his way. A friend whose child is later on the pick up route than Ben texted.
"Bus there yet?"
"Nope. Thinking of driving."
"I am too. Want me to take Ben?" How friendly. Ninety seconds later the bus pulled up, and Ben climbed on. I thanked the man who had a long list of addresses and seemed perplexed.
I texted her back.
"Bus
came."
"Keys were in my hands!"
I turned my attention to the twins whose routine starts later. After ironing their clothes I went to help with breakfast. Oops no milk. No bread either. Or juice. Thankfully chickens work on Labor Day and there were four caramel colored orbs in the basket. While they cooked the girls looked for lunch options. No pizzas, or corn dogs, and still no bread. Hmm.
"Mom these eggs are
delicious! You are amaaazing!" my sweet daughter announced.
Amazing? If competence were based on the contents of my kitchen I think another adjective would suffice. Lame. Incompetent. Distracted. Underprepared.
The odd thing is her appreciation sparked me to action.
"I can get to the store this morning. I will put bagels and cream cheese in your locker."
"Really? You are the
best!"
If the desired results are increased effort, gratitude is a beefier motivator than tongue clucking.
I suppose I could have greeted the bus driver with words other than thank you. It had been a long wait. But it was a fresh day, and sitting with Ben watching the early morning joggers and walkers is pleasant. He and I chatted about the loss of summer. He has feelings about that. I am glad that my initial interaction with a man who
will transport my son for 180 days was not a terse one. Who knows. Maybe he was out of bread and milk too.
