Verona rode the bus for the first time today.
After stomping around the house in a rage upon discovering that David took the car without telling me, even though I always have it Thursday and plan my week with that in mind I announced “I am going to rescue Thursday morning from the impending epic suckitude! WE ARE STILL GOING TO COFFEE TIME!”
Thursday mornings mean coffee time, when a handful of the wisest people in the world (or at least in my world) gather, drink coffee, nibble on some fantastic carby delight and banter about everything from the deep and philosophical (to what extent should an existentialist interpretation of the New Testament influence our understanding and application of it?) to the everyday (who’s recipe for zuchini bread is superior?) Essentially it’s chillin’ with the elders of our village, our little village inside the big city. V and I go, I learn things, I trust that she will learn things, the people of grandparent age love on her, and who in their right mind would resist fantastic carby delights?
Being a one car family I rode the bus a decent amount when I had a job but since being home it’s been easy to walk places or wait until David’s not working to go so V has never ridden the bus before.
She watched the noisy traffic at bus stops with delight and occasional laughter, giggled and made faces at other passengers transforming a typically silent and wary group of people who refuse to make eye contact with one another into a talkative and open bunch. Seeing her made everyone want to tell stories about their own kids, grandkids, or in one guy’s case talk with unbridled enthusiasm about how he and his girlfriend had started trying to get pregnant and how thrilled he was to meet his child who still only exists in their hopes and dreams. Her tiny spirit enabled people to break out of their isolated metropolitian shells and connect with one another again… it was beautiful.
Waiting for the bus home afterward she passed out… being fantastic is exhausting. 🙂