This year our oldest son doesn’t get a bus. Originally he had a bus stop, until the county cut a bunch of bus stops making my five-year-old a walking student. Yeah, not letting my five-year-old walk three miles to school. So by the whole good parent default, I am driving him every morning and then sitting in an obnoxiously long pick-up line every afternoon.
Small price to pay to the school gods.
This morning, when I was getting ready to leave the house, making sure that he had everything needed for Monday morning at school, I was trying to figure out all the positives of the actual morning drop-off. Because, let’s face it, having to get up early enough to drop your child off at 7:30 AM isn’t a walk in the park. Especially if you aren’t a morning person. (Insert a grumble about how much I hate life before 9 AM here.)
The more I thought about it, the more hysterical thoughts popped into my head, a lot of them focused around my lack of need for a bra.