Today, R, the 5 year old, is off on his first class trip. They're going to see a show, The Paperbag Players, at a local community theater . . . on a school bus. I hate school buses.
As a child, I never rode the school bus. I grew up in a very urban area and we walked to school. I loved walking to school.
Now, we live in a very suburban area and R is eligible to ride the bus (though I'm not sure why since we live less than a mile from school) but he chooses not to. I drive him and pick him up every day. When it gets warmer, we may try walking, but right now we're still driving. He's not much of a fan of the bus either.
He has ridden the school bus once before when he was 3 for a preschool trip. He doesn't remember it.
Yesterday, he asked me if he'd ever been on a bus before. That's a signal to me he's a bit anxious about this trip. So am I.
Our local paper is littered with stories about school bus accidents. The news reports on at least one every day.
His teacher did not ask for chaperones, though I heard there will be about 4 of them. I probably wouldn't have been able to volunteer because of D, the rambunctious 2 year old that lives with us. He would be a nightmare on a class trip.
Needless to say I will have no peace until that child is back at his school, which according to my calculations will be at around 12 noon. Only 3 1/2 more hours of worrying to go.