Hubris

So, my very wise friend Lane read my post of a couple days ago and basically advised me to kill the bus driver with kindness, that cookies always work wonders and that while the driver wouldn’t go out of her way for some random parent, she might be more amenable to doing it for a friend. And that if I were hostile, the driver might take it out on the kid.

All very good advice.  All very cogent and sensible. 

All completely counter to my policy of rewarding bad behavior.

Well, the next day, I was at the bus stop, in my car. When the bus pulled up, I got out of my car and was standing so close to the road that she could have hit me with the door when it swung up.

And we had a very nice and civil conversation, wherein she apologized that the rules were so strict, and that she knew my kid wouldn’t get run over between me and the bus door, but that if any other parents saw her doing that it could mean her job.  I told her I completely understood and thanked her for explaining and thanked her more for being conscientious.  (I did not ask her what on earth she could possibly be worrying about since the Young Prince is the only kindergartener in a 3-mile radius and thus I am the only parent around being forced to participate in this silly dance to see if/where she is letting him off.) I count this as a victory for both of us.

Bus driver, 1. Bad mom, 1.

And then … there was yesterday. 

I have been hiking the battlefield, as I mentioned. I believe I have conquered the chiggers with Off! 

I have not, apparently, conquered the Trails Omitted by the Trail Map.

If I had been smart, I would have downloaded this map.

Now, you see those little goldish-brownish lines? Those are bridle paths. For horses.  Guess what! The map you get with your admission at the battlefield does NOT INCLUDE THOSE.

So here is what I thought I was doing, based on the lines I could see on the map I had:

But here is what I might have done:

Or possibly, I did this.

I really have no idea, even now.  At any event, upon realizing there was no chance I was on this silly little loop trail, I also comprehend there is no way I’m going to find my way back to my car on time. I go off-trail and cut back toward where I know the main highway is, figuring at the very least I’ll find that and walk along it to the parking lot. I get scratched up by brambles, but remain bug-bite free. I find another trail and get on it, but I’m not entirely sure where I am in relation to the parking lot.

At 3:45, I call my neighbor at work.

“Hi. Could you do me a huuuuuge favor?”  
“Of course! What?”
“Well, I’m sort of … lost. And I don’t think I’ll find my way back in time to meet the bus. Could you please be at the YP’s bus stop at 4:10?”
“Yes, yes! No problem!  …. What do you mean, you’re lost?”
“Well, I went hiking …”
“Where ARE you?”
“Well, my car is at the parking lot off Rte 234 in the battlefield.  I’m not entirely sure where I am, but I know my car is 20 minutes from the bus stop, so I’m unlikely to make it there in time. Now, go ahead and laugh.”
“Oh, no. I’m so not going to laugh at you. I’ve done that twice myself back there. It’s scary!”
“I’m not scared. I’m just pissed off. And late. So you’ll get him?”
“Yes, absolutely. I’m leaving right now.”
“I just hope the driver lets you take him. I mean, you’re on the list, but I don’t know if she even has the list.”
“Can I have her call you?”
“Yah. I’ll be sure to answer the phone, ‘YP’s dumbass lost mother speaking…’”

We hang up. I realize the path I’m on has taken me up to the very edge of the battlefield backing up against someone’s farm. 

Sigh. Turn around.

Get to my car at 4:04.

Get stuck behind a Volvo going 35 mph. Where the speed limit is 50.

Get a call from my neighbor at 4:12.  “Hi, I got him. She asked if I was on the list, but she didn’t actually look at any list that I could see. And the YP clearly knew me and ran right to me, so I guess she decided it was OK to leave him.”

Get home at 4:17, with a big 7-11 thank you gift for the neighbor in tow.

Ugh.

Bus driver, 2.  Worst mother ever: 1.

Forget cookies. Looks like there are big melty frosted cupcakes in someone’s future.

Comments

[modernfairie]

LOL!!!!

I'm sorry - it's not funny that you got lost. I constantly get lost. But I mean, it's kind of funny. You're in a battlefield. I mean, HONESTLY!!! I'm sorry. I'm not being very nice.

And your buddy is right. Bus drivers get no respect. Kids kive them migraines on the bus, paretns yell and scream, teachers yell and scream, everyone yells and screams. It's a highly stressfull job - I can only imagine. I bet a cup of coffee and a doughnut one morning would go a REALLY long way. ;) At Christmastime every year, my mom would give my bus driver a tin full of home baked chocolate chip cookies, wrapped in a big red bow. And Valentines Day was chocolates. Easter was a stuffed bunny rabbit. etc etc etc. The bus driver ended up moving the bus stop to OUR DRIVEWAY. ((OF course, my mother had three small children riding the buss at the same time...so, she kind of had a need.))

But don't count yourself in the "bad mom" catergory. You can just say "normal mom". A bad mom wouldn't have called anyone to get the Young Prince. ;) SHtuff happens. Don't be so hard on yourself.

[cosmiccamper]

So I'm thinking maybe a GPS would be a good thing for you to have :)

[Blondeambition]

I can understand the getting lost part completely! That battlefield is a horrible place for hiking. Every time I've hiked there I've gotten lost. And it's the fault of the battlefield people who don't mark the trails well, don't put everything on the map (like you said). I hike the Appalacian Trail, among other places, and I don't get lost very often. That battlefield is very easy to go astray. You did the right thing by veering toward what you thought was the main road. That's always the way to get out of the woods where you can see!

[ardentdelerium]

you live closer to me than I thought.

any more thoughts on promoting the YP to grade one?