well, i wasn’t sure what i was going to blog about, but now i know: lindsey.

it’s 8:04.  the bus goes by our house, picks up kids at the end of the street, and then turns around and comes back to our bus stop which is basically right in front of our house.  it’s great.  we get a 5-minute warning every morning.  we love the bus route.  william and lindsey are usually outside within a minute of it going by the first time, giving them about 4 minutes of waiting until it returns.

so today, as it goes everyday, they were outside on time with their jackets, their lunches, their backpacks, all the things that make them little students, waiting for the bus to come back.  william doesn’t need much reminding.  but lindsey usually gets a, “do you have your lunch?  how about your backpack?  how about your head?  and shoes?  underwear?” every morning.  i did that this morning, just like all other mornings.

so when i heard the bus rolling our way to come to pause at our bus stop, i knew they’d be off to school in moments.  but then i hear a frantic, truly frantic, slamming at the door.  lindsey is there, of course (you didn’t think it’d be william, did you?).  i rush to open the door.  the bus is now already stopped at our stop and kids are getting on it.  the look on her face is panic.
she’s flushed,
she’s nervous,
tears are going to start coming soon.

“what’s wrong?” i ask her, and i ask quick because if she misses that bus, guess who has to get in the car in her pajamas and drive her incognito across town (i’m really in no state to be seen by the light of day right now).

“i put it down!  i put it down!” i can’t be quite sure what she’s talking about.
“put what down?”
“my lunch!” she says.

and a quick glance at her proves otherwise.  there, hanging on the crook of her arm, is her lunch bag.  just as it was when she left this morning, and just as it was each minute that she waited at the bus stop, and just as it shall be when she gets on the bus.

“it’s right there, lindsey!”

she takes one look at it, turns around, and runs back to the bus.  just like that, she is gone.  with the lunch box that she thought she was missing.