Sunday, 12 December 2010
Wait no More
At ten past eight each morning the frantic exit strategy begins. While I stand in the laundry counting heads under hats, and reminding anybody who will listen of notes to be returned, library books and lunches, they scramble past, a mad dash to the front seat of the car.
Many mornings, as we turn the front corner of the house-yard I glimpse the bus already waiting at our gate. But most mornings we make it on time, and the kids take turns skipping rocks across the highway, and making air-horn-pulling gestures at passing semi's, who most obligingly return a friendly horn melody at the waving, cheering crew.
This week though saw the end of this morning ritual, with the bus route next year swinging to take on more numbers on the southern stretch of highway, leaving us to travel to school by car. No more will our kids take turns sitting in the front seat of the bus, controlling the ipod for the trip, singing along to 'Hit me with your Best Shot', 'TNT', 'My Brown Eyed Girl' amongst others.
And no more will Mrs P know more about our family-lives than she possibly ever needed to!