When people found out that we live directly behind the elementary school Holden attends- I was often asked why in the world I didn’t just walk him to school every morning.
The school isn’t so much a “stone’s throw” as it is a football field that has been decommissioned- and when you’re walking through that shit at 8 in the morning, it’s wet. Long, wet grass and then you’re soaking yourself when you’re only half awake to begin with because you had to wake up earlier in order to leave earlier to make the walk, but then you get jolted into FULLY awake because you’re all panicky that there could be a snake hiding in this grass and you’d never see it since they only mow it every now and then.
So why not the bus? Why not just send his little ass on the bus?
That’s even WORSE than walking, y’all! Even worse! I didn’t even think the bus picked up kids under a mile from the school… but it does. The bus comes, as it stands, when we have just woken up and are still eating breakfast. I am not dragging my ass out of bed before the sun even bothers to show up, to walk my kid to the bus stop in whatever element the planet decides to poop on me that day- to wait for 15 minutes for a bus to show up, when the school is literally a 3 minute drive down the road.
Both of these things require me to get dressed in the morning, only to get home and undress immediately so that I can exercise. Errrrr yeah, no. Not happening.
Every day when Thomas drove to work, and when I drove home from picking Holden up- we would both see hoards of parents sitting at the bus stop, waiting. Every time I would think to myself (well, and sometimes out loud) “THE SCHOOL IS TWO MINUTES DOWN THE ROAD. WHYYYYYYYYY?!”
I just could not wrap my mind around how these people were sitting out at the ass-crack of dawn and in the horrid humidity of September in Virginia when it would take a shorter amount of time just to hoof it around.the.fucking.corner.
I scoffed at the laziness. The insanity! The stupidity!
And then one dreary, rainy Monday morning- I drove to the school to drop Holden off and got stuck. The line to get into the drop-off parking lot was absolutely outrageous- and with the way I came from I was going to have to take a left turn across traffic to get in. Which meant I didn’t have the right of way, ever.
I’m not the asshole who likes to break traffic rules (I am the asshole who gets tickets for really stupid shit when no one else seems to), so I waited my turn. And waited. And waited. My turn never fucking came, people. Every time there was a break in the line of cars, someone would yank out of the parking lot and turn right in front of me, and then like MAGIC another car would be making a right turn, cutting off my opening. With kids in the car, making a break for it didn’t seem like the wisest of ideas on a busy road on a rainy day. So I waited. And then up trots some giant mini-van behind me and BEEPS at me like she fucking owns the place.
Well fuck you, mini-van bitch! YOU try to get in when no one will let you!
I finally had to break my rule of not breaking traffic rules and cut some bitches off to finally be able to get in. And then the LONG wait to get back out.
|good luck with that, sucka!|
That is when it dawned on me. People wait at the bus stop to avoid PARKING LOT HELL. That honk-happy red minivan biatch just opened my eyes to what sleep deprevity had me missing. Every single day dropping off and picking up Holden was a total nightmare. Maybe not as much as rainy Monday, but still enough to make you want to avoid it at all costs- even if it meant walking through a soaking wet field in the freezing cold or sitting at a bus stop for 20 minutes in 100 degree heat.
The closest thing to hell there is, contrary to popular belief, is NOT Chuck-e-Cheese on a Saturday morning- it is, by far, an elementary school parking lot at pick up or drop off time.
The cutting off, the careless assholish nature of turds who think the world revolves around them and their little precious; NO, TAKE YOUR TIME, no one else is here to get their child or to drop them off so they aren’t tardy! Oh, no, NO PROBLEM. You go ahead and get out of your car and walk fluffy to the door while we all sit here and wait in the middle of the road. No big thang!
Crotch nuggets everywhere, darting out into the street and that panicked fucking moment where you feel like you ALMOST didn’t see them and who the hell knows what could have happened and mother-trucker I think I just gave myself a hernia clenching my ass that hard; that DAMNED happy-honker insisting on BACKING IN to a spot during pick up with a line of cars waiting- are you kidding me?
All turns what could be a total of a 10 minute process into a 20 minute one, which makes those 15 sitting at the bus stop or walking through a wet field of phantom snakes NOT wanting to spork people in their eyeballs sound much more appealing.
But I’d still have to get dressed… so it ain’t happening.
Guess that means I should stop bitching, right?
Every. Single. Time. pic.twitter.com/aAAWWjdrN3
I'm either "I HAVE 3 FRIES LEFT DON'T TOUCH MY PLATE!" or "Please take this so I can't eat any more of it!" There is no in-between.
Dear people writing articles on ways to get siblings to get along, I'll save you the time. The answer is "Don't let them play together"
Please stop Complimenting my kids’ “Good” Behavior goo.gl/fb/rwfojS
Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.