The wheels on the bus go round...and round...and round...and round...

Yesterday, my friend Val and her baby Annie went on a bus ride with us to the library. First, we thought we were late, so we high-tailed it to the bus stop (about three blocks from my house; not an insurmountable distance, but it feels like that with my kids, who tend to dawdle and enjoy playing the game of "Go the Wrong Way so Mommy Comes Chasing After Me Then Shriek Happily and Do it Again"...it should hit the stores in time for Christmas, if you're interested).

The bus was running a little behind schedule, which was slightly annoying because (a) we had hurried in the first place, and (b) some creepy guy was waiting at the bus stop, and the longer we waited for the bus, the more he apparently thought we should be friends because he started talking to us and my kids. C'mon, bus. Hurry. Please.

Finally, the bus came. We made ourselves comfortable and made it safely to the transfer center, whereupon we dismounted and caught another bus to go to the library. We were soon happily on our way, minus the fact that Creepy Guy was on our bus as well. True to form, Layla made friends with many people on the bus, many of whom seemed scary to me but, when I think about it, they maybe needed a loud & friendly "HELLO!" to brighten their day. Either way, the girl is not shy.

Destination: Library. No problem, except we saw Creepy Guy get off at another stop and head toward the library as well. We hurried inside, watched the fish, typed in some probably irreversible code-altering commands onto the kid computers (thanks, Layla), checked out a movie ("The Wubbulous World of Dr. Seuss"...I couldn't believe our good luck that this cinematic masterpiece was actually on the shelves! Sorry to all of you who've had your eye on it; you'll just have to do one of those "place hold" deals online and wait your turn. The plot is absolutely riveting...), took many drinks from the drinking fountain, then headed back out to wait at the bus stop.

Good news: No sign of Creepy Guy anywhere. Phew.

By this time, the kids were still being good but the novelty of the bus ride was kind of wearing off. Layla was distracted from her antsiness with an apple, I don't remember about Carson. We got on the bus, which was totally full, and tried to find a place to sit down. Seeing that it was hopeless to sit right then, Val and I clutched our babies (I nearly dropped Lays, who was squirming all over the place) as the bus driver sped off, apparently still in the running for the coveted Most Intent on Staying On Schedule Bus Driver of the Year award and determined to take home the gold, regardless of fatalities. Anyway, after many jerky stops and starts, we finally sat.

Unfortunately, we were in the midst of about ten pottymouth tweeners. Note to self: never make my kids ride the public bus home from school. At least Carson amused himself by "sliding" down the bus floor under the seat in front of him. Val and I felt like we were in some bad horror movie, slash, Groundhog Day. We joked about how it was too bad we'd miss Paul's birthday, or maybe her husband could take Paul to dinner instead of me (which wouldn't be at all awkward for Matt or Paul...oh, wait...yes it would), since we wouldn't make it back in time. Or how, dang it, we forgot our toiletries and sleeping bags, and we'll just have to rough it through the night and try to make it home the next day...

Potty Mouths finally exited the premises, and I noticed a distinct aroma emanating from Layla's diaper (I wonder if the two are correlated; if so, good girl, Layla). At the transit center, I vacillated between just leaving Layla alone or changing her diaper. Finally, I couldn't handle the smell anymore, so, since our bus hadn't yet arrived, I found a semi-private spot and started to change it. Of course, my bus came (the last one and, therefore, in a hurry) right as I got her old diaper off - past the point of no return. Val asked the bus driver to wait for me and herded Carson on the bus while I hastily semi-cleaned Layla up and threw a new diaper on and ran for the bus, her onesie flapping, undone, in the wind and her shorts still down around her ankles.

Good grief. Val was dying laughing. It was all so absurd.

Our kids were exhausted (except Layla, who finished almost every morsel of her own apple and started in happily on Carson's), with Annie nearly asleep on Val's shoulder, and Carson lounging across his seat onto my lap. It was a never-ending bus ride (much like this retelling of it...). We made it home a few hours after our initial departure, about 5 minutes before Paul got home.

There's got to be a lesson to be learned here somewhere.