That Time My Kid Was Obsessed with Public Transit
“I think I need to buy you both bus passes for Christmas,” I say to my two teens in a half-joking but also completely serious way.
Just today, I transported the 15-year-old to the mall, the 13-year-old to the bowling alley for a birthday party, picked them up from their various locations and dropped them off at the dollar store while I waited in my car picking the gunk out from under my nails.
The driving is getting so out of hand I’ve started daydreaming of the beautiful day when they get their licenses, and I no longer have to be their glorified chauffeur.
“The city bus is so scary, though!” My daughter, the 13-year-old, says.
I want to ask her when she became so delicate, but that seems a little harsh. So instead, I say, “Gather round children and let me tell you of a time when the girl-child was infatuated with the public transit system.”
A long, long time ago, in a life far away, my daughter loved to watch random people loiter on our front lawn.
Wait.
Let me back up a bit because people lounging on my front lawn seems, er, creepy.
One of the many things I did not notice before putting in a bid for our current home was that there was a bus stop directly in front of our house. Being the ever-optimist I am, I figured — once learning of this development conveniently after the mortgage agreement was signed — I could start taking the bus, and how amazing would that be in the middle of winter to have a stop only 10 feet from my front door?!
Oh, the promises I make to myself when I’m feeling delusionally cheerful.
Here’s the problem though: things get awkward when said humans are waiting for said bus at said conveniently placed bus stop and they happen to turn around to see a big-eyed, wild-haired five-year-old gazing intently into their soul.
That wild-eyed five-year-old was Sophie, and she had no qualms about making her subjects uncomfortable. Our girl would prop herself on the couch back, splayed fingers pressed firmly against the living room window, nose crunched into a pug-like fashion as if trying to sniff out the weaknesses of those world-weary travelers.
She was a frenzied Jane Goodall observing a grazing troupe of chimpanzees.
Many people didn’t take kindly to Sophie’s obsessive watch and went as far as to move on to the next stop. This infuriated the child because it ruined her ability to finish her deeply thought-out yarn.
You see, Sophie enjoyed people-watching as a pastime and loved imagining the lives of the strangers who stood before our living room window.
Once, she told me that the person left because he was about to “diarrhea in his pants,” and it was then I realized she had inherited my unique skill of being able to turn anything into potty humour.
Soph loved watching the people, but what really intrigued her was the bus itself. She always asked me where it went after pulling away from the stop at the end of our driveway. Where did it come from? Who was the man driving, and why didn’t he ever acknowledge her when she sat there frantically waving at him from her perch on the couch?
So, imagine Sophie’s surprise when I told her that we would be riding on that very same bus. She was elated! I may have even seen a tear of joy roll down her cheek.
We had moved to the city from a small town that did not have a public transit system. Sophie, being so young, had never ridden a bus. This was the most significant development of her five years, and she was teeming with excitement.
On the other hand, Lars shrugged his shoulders and said, “Oh yeah, that’ll be cool,” in the most unconvincing voice I’d ever heard. Soph didn’t notice her brother’s nonchalance; she skipped away with the notorious Sleepy Bear propped under her arm while speaking to no one in particular about how splendid the bus ride would be.
My mom, brother and sister-in-law had come for a visit, and it was with them that we ventured downtown on the bus. As we waited at the same stop which Sophie had been staring at for the past month, I could see the anticipation growing on her face.
Of course, as with most public transit, the bus was late.
“Is it not coming!?” she cried to her Uncle Dustin after we had been waiting for a considerable time. Just as he was about to say, “Oh shucks, I guess we’ll have to take my truck downtown,” the sound of the bus’s massive air brakes rang through the air.
“IT’S HERE!” Sophie screamed as the doors to her every wish and desire opened before us.
From that point until we reached the downtown terminal, Sophie was the star of that specific bus route.
The population inside, including the driver, could immediately tell we were newbies at this public transit thing. Sophie gave us away when she organized an awe-filled twirl while walking down the aisle and whisper-screeching, “This is the best day eveeer!”
Meanwhile, Lars was entirely at home on the large means of transportation. As my mom said, it seemed like “old hat” for the seven-year-old. He plopped down on the seat, propped an elbow on the armrest, and sat idly by, waiting for his stop.
“Lars, are you enjoying the ride?” Aunty Ashley asked him about halfway to our destination.
“Yeah, it’s alright,” he replied.
“What do you mean it’s alright?!” Sophie screamed, “It’s amazing!”
Her gusto made everyone smile, and I had a feeling that taking the bus downtown would end up being a regular occurrence. That was fine by me — the stop was basically at my front door.
We had a great time exploring the city center and some of its eclectic shops and cafes, but once again, Sophie’s real point of delight was sparked by getting back on the bus to ride home.
My brother Dustin was less enthused by his day of bus hopping and window shopping, but he stuck it out for Soph.
Eight years later, as I tell this story to my teens, they roll their eyes. If you didn’t know, Mom getting all nostalgic is pretty much the biggest bummer out there.
A few years after our memorable ride, the bus stop was removed as the city changed up all the bus routes. Sophie’s adoration for buses and my goal to go green with the transit system disappeared with the loss of the stop.
However, it’s about time I reintroduce my kids to the city bus. That, or I reintroduce myself to the transit system and just tell my kids the car broke down.
Enjoy the read? If so feel free to check out my newest book release, I’m Not the Manager Here!