These little people who follow me around everywhere and refer to me as "Mom" look incredibly cute . . . but in reality, they are minions of the devil.
It was not even 40-degrees this morning, and my daughter wanted to wear capris. I gave her the bad news about that, and was met with the typical crossing of arms and stomping up and down the hallway while wildly gesturing and complaining about her choice of jeans.
Somehow, I managed to get both of them fed, dressed and ready for school with ten minutes to spare before the bus was scheduled to arrive. My darling daughter started making paper snowflakes. Five minutes before the bus, my son said, "Hey, Mom. I'm supposed to bring a couple of fall leaves to school today." We went out into the yard and found four leaves in the soaking wet grass. I went inside to dry them off, and my son was going to go outside and look for the bus. I got the leaves dried and in his backpack. The daughter thrust a piece of folded paper and a pair of scissors in my face and said, "Cut a triangle." When I tried to cut it, I ripped the paper. More wild gesturing with her arms. We had a short discussion about her attitude. She grabbed her backpack and went outside.
I found my son in the garage (obviously, he thought he could see the bus while he was playing in there), and he had taken off his coat and hat. Just at that time, the bus passed us to go down the cul de sac. It would be back in less than three minutes. I asked my son where his coat was. Somehow he turns into Vinnie Barbarino (John Travolta's character from "Welcome Back Kotter" - a TV show from the '70s for those of you too young to remember). He gets a surprised look on his face and says "What". I told him to get his coat and hat and he says "Where".
At this point, I can hear the bus coming back. The daughter starts running. The son goes into the house, come back out with the coat and hat, and I run screaming "Wait! Wait!" to our elderly bus driver. He looks like the Burgess Meredith character in the "Rocky" films - Rocky's trainer - I think his name was Mickey. I was physically holding the bus doors open, and he says, "Hey young lady, I think you want the high school bus."
For some reason, that struck me as being terribly funny, and I started laughing uncontrollably. It was the laugh of the criminally insane.
I got both kids on the bus, waived good bye and laughed all the way home. Thank goodness for the bus driver. He injected some much-needed levity into my morning, and he is my new favorite person today. Hopefully, I'm his favorite psycho-Mom.