I have three little ones ranging in age from 12 to 15, and lucky for me, they all attend the same school. Every morning, we all pile into the great minivan and cruise to the bus stop, where we have odd conversations. I enjoy those times, because it gives me real insight into what and how my kids are thinking and also gives me a change to spout off a thread of wisdom or two. Over the years, I’ve gathered quite a bit of stories, so let me share some with you here.
I present to you….Tales from the Bus Stop.
The Players
Number 1 son: oldest son, 15
Daughter: 14
Littlest: 12 (also plays trumpet….important later).
Story #1
Number 1 son: (terrible Russian accent) In Russia, road forks you.
Daughter: That is the dumbest thing I ever heard.
(Meanwhile, I’m laughing)
No. 1 son: Do not dispute Mother Russia.
Daughter: Only Africa is a mother, stupid. Haven’t you heard of the motherland?
No. 1 Son: Mother Russia will PUTIN you in gulag.
Littlest son: Don’t you mean goulash?
Story #2
Trumpet Playing Son: Our band teacher told us about Wynton Marsalis today.
Me: Oh yeah? I met him.
:::::shocked silence::::: then, “You did?”
Me (all cool and casual and ish): Oh, yeah, he played the Schubert Theatre in New Haven. Met him after the concert.
Littlest: Wow. My band teacher says he’s the greatest trumpet player in the world.
Me: He might want to get in line behind Louis Armstrong, Dizzy Gillespie and maybe Miles Davis, but okay….
Then, I thought about it. Not only did I tell a “story from the past”, I referenced dead musicians.
I….am at that “hey look, an old person’s telling a story” stage.
Story #3
My daughter was in a bad mood yesterday.
Number One Son made a joke and she snapped back something fierce.
Unperturbed, as Pisces tend to be, he says:
“Excuse me, Miss Pistol, didn’t know you were loaded.”
Nothing but gems here. I had to write them down so I’ll be able to tease them with it when they get older. Seriously, though, the conversations they have are often hilarious. I look forward to sharing more with you!
D
For the fifth time, he touched the butt of the gun shoved into the holster at the small of his back. Having it there made for easier carrying and the barrel didn’t poke at his hip every time he took a step. While it was a little difficult to draw, most of the things he was shooting at didn’t move very quickly anyhow.