school bus stories

This YouTube thing about the school bus attendant being abused by kids on the bus?

I haven't watched it--don't want to view that, a little cute lady being talked bad to by young jerks?

No.

My kids hardly went to school back in the 80s before we quit, but we had a couple years of it.

John LOVED the bus. He adored the action, the drama, the people.

He used to come home with bus discipline slips for me to sign,   "Standing on the bus."

I'd say, "Were you standing on the bus?"

"Yes."

"You must sit down on the bus."

"Okay."

A week later we'd have this conversation again.  (What did they expect me to DO?)

And there was the day he missed the bus.  He'd goof around, arguing, being a twerp because he could.

Well.

He missed the bus.  Dan was on it. He was gone to school.
 


So I had to drive Johann.

But first I had to get dressed.  And then dress his sisters.  And nurse the baby.

Then I had to scrape off the car and get it started and warmed up.

And put snowsuits on the sisters.

And nurse the baby again.  He was pacing around, upset.

The trip to school was close to half an hour.

By the time he got there it was after 10:30.

He never missed the bus again.

But this is the part I'm trying to get to.  One morning the principal called me and started the conversation saying, "I've  met your son and he seemed like a nice little boy."

Okay, that freaked me out, SEEMED.  IS HE DEAD?  Why are you calling me unless he fell under a bus wheel?

"Oh no, no, no.  He's fine.   We've had some reports that children on the bus are being intimidated into giving up their lunches."

"What?"

A kid had reported that older children on the bus would take food from the lunchboxes of younger children with the promise they'd let them live.

"EXTORTION?  On the bus?  Do you want me to bring him more food?"

He said, "Well, yes, heh-heh, extortion I guess so. No you don't have to bring him more food.  We have recovered your son's tangerine.  It was a nicely peeled tangerine in a baggie."

I said, "Yes, I peeled it myself this morning."

Then I started laughing maniacally. He wasn't dead. This was all about assholes and a tangerine??

Good LOR-ed.  The principal seemed befuddled like I wasn't taking this seriously enough.

I asked John about it when he came home and he basically said those kids were idiots and whatever.

He said the other kid was very upset by it, but he didn't pay any attention to them.

 

A couple months later, he came home, dusty, shirt full of dirt.

What happened?

Those kids on the bus had roughed him up because he LAUGHED when they got in trouble.

Wheee.

 The bus.  I have no answers.

And this whole tale comes with the date of 1986.  Twenty-six YEARS?  Is that even possible?

Evidently, and not much has changed.

Okay, not solving any problems tonight.

No wonder I love homeschool SO MUCH.   We've got no buses and  can act ugly to each other if we want to, I suppose.  Except we never do.  (much usually, sometimes a little. ahem.)

I wonder if any kids in this house have chocolate I could extort?   Hmmm.

 love, Val