My Own School Bus Story
I wanted to share this, although the story is about 48 years old!
When I started school, we lived "in the country", & I rode the big yellow school bus.
My house was the very first, & last, one on the route.
Really, logically, my mother should have had me get on the bus last in the mornings, but she pretty much always wanted us out of her house, so I got on the bus first & rode around the whole loop.
In the afternoons, I got off first.
I loved school, loved riding the bus, loved Mr Vaughn (Vaughan?), the bus driver.
I thought he was about a hunnert years old;
he was probably in his early sixties.
I was the littlest & youngest person on the bus.
It was full of big kids, very cool, very sophisticated.
High school kids who sat together, girls fluffing their hair & fussing with their petticoats (it was 1958), boys giving each other 'frogs' & bragging.
Such stuff as that.
I was too shy to speak to any of them.
On the last day of my first year at school, I was lost, I was bereft.
I wouldn't get to ride the bus again until September.
until second grade.
When Mr Vaughn stopped the bus at my house, I started down the steps, then turned around & ran back up & kissed him on the cheek, & ran back down again, to the sound of that whole bus full of cool sophisticates roaring with laughter.