Thoughts on the bus

Isn't it funny how, depending on our stage in life, a three letter word can take on such drastically different meanings.

Bus!

As a child, to hear your friends shout it likely meant you're late. They're gathered at the stop, the bus is in sight and if you're not in line with them, then you better hustle.

As a teenager, hearing that shout of "Bus!" brought an even greater adrenalin rush. Working in the exciting quick service industry, more commonly known as fastfood dining, if a colleague shouted the alert of a bus pulling off the highway or – even worse – into the parking lot, it meant "prepare for chaos." Thirty or more hungry people could soon noisily pile into the restaurant expecting immediate service. Get the fries down!

Then parenthood arrives and, for at least a brief time, buses are an exciting, magical thing. AJ and Sydney both love to call out when they see a bright yellow school bus pass us on the road. It becomes a bit of a game to see who spots it first. "Bus!" It's become such a habit that, I have to admit, I've called out "Bus!" on my way to work when I'm alone in the car.

At this stage, riding a bus, as AJ got to do this week during a preschool lesson on bus safety, is just about the coolest thing ever.

It's a novelty, no doubt, but I wonder if part of the appeal is the fact that he's not strapped into a car seat. What other moving vehicle, in this day and age of seatbelt safety, allows you to freely bounce up and down?

Soon enough, I'm sure, we'll come full circle, when hearing the cry of "bus!" means the kids' bus is in sight, and if they're not at the stop waiting for it, then they better grab their coats and hustle.

But before that day arrives, I know I must survive one more key phase. I've got less than a year to prepare for it, and hopefully it lasts just one day. That's the day when the sight of a bus brings tears to my eyes, because I know that bright yellow vehicle is about to take my baby away for his first day of kindergarten.

Bus!