![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbJ9w7g5johR9l7Wukx3Fie_p4t8BJwYskYu8rPh5ixmxd94oT_ZtvhQ3sK4RsJ5ylkzKhiq6Jg_oCQL3GFm3zBY-DbzCeSfM64wKx2cMeDiWFUImiaX3AW2CJNxBeLI6wcD9pPnLnZr8/s200/School+Bus.jpg)
Dear Lady who Lovingly Puts her Children on the School Bus in Front of Me Each Morning,
I believe you already know who you are. . . the tall, pretty one with the long brown hair who waits outside that beautiful home with the picket fence and owns about ten of the most absolutly gorgeous coats I have ever seen . . . the one whose children's bus I invariably get behind each morning as I am rushing to work like Mario Andretti . . . the one with a boy and a girl, aged roughly six and eight, who are dressed impeccably . . . .who always hop onto the bus after kissing you goodbye, leaving you waving like the queen at their departure. Now, keep in mind, I haven't seen what sort of car you drive, but I'm sure it's some sort of oversized SUV, not at all in keeping with my 1999 minivan.
Well, I have just one thing to say to you. . .
Do you think, for once, you could try to be less than perfect at 8:29 a.m.? How about if your children were late and the bus had to sit outside your house and honk once or twice? Could you try that? I'd be more than happy to be six minutes late for work instead of five just to see it. . . Or how about if one of your precious children decided they didn't want to go to school and had to be shoved on the bus - kicking and screaming - instead? Or what if you came out with your hair all disheveled? Or in your bathrobe? How about throw-up? Could one of your your kids throw up on one of your many coats as you wait for the bus to arrive? And, for good measure, could you make sure that they drank some red kool aid with their breakfast? That would be great! Or maybe one of them could be mad at you and throw you a good old, I hate you, Mom! before getting on that bus. . . but maybe you should wait for the warmer weather for that one so that my windows would be down and I could hear it. . . Oh, I forgot, my passenger window is perpetually out of order, so he'd have to scream like a banchee, okay. . . I could send my daughters to practice with them if you'd like. . .
I can't tell you how much a little imperfection on your end would leave me feeling a whole lot better about my life and spread a little sunshine into my day . . .
With all hopes for a little rain falling into your backyard, I am . . .
p.s. I want you all to notice that I didn't complain about my daughters once!!!