She's a Rebel

Last week Joseph went to a school party, which included swimming. The nice thing was that they took his bus home from the party, so Joseph simply left his swim bag on the bus, in order to hold his seat, while he went to the classroom to gather his things. An oh, so helpful teacher's assistant saw the bag and took it to her classroom. Joseph found out about it when he got back on the bus and found his bag missing. The bus monitor told him that he didn't have time to go retrieve it, and that she would get it for him later. Saturday...Sunday...Monday (a holiday)...Tuesday. She didn't have it when the bus arrived in the morning, but said that she'd get it. After school she didn't have it, and told Joseph that he'd said that he was going to get it. Wednesday morning, I spoke to her and told her that he didn't know where the classroom was. She said she'd get it. Bottom line, the oh, so helpful teacher had just abandoned the bag on a table outside. It was nowhere to be found at the school, not even in the black hole that they call Lost and Found. One pricey swim bag, one swimsuit, and our best swim towel. Gone. Forever.

Perhaps you are wondering what this all has to do with the title of this blog entry. Try to imagine my feelings after trying to get this bag back for nearly a week, and then tromping all over the school in search of it today, this last day of school. Frustrated? Angry? Extremely annoyed? All of the above.

So, as we were making our way to the parking lot, we had to pass in front of the front bus in the line. A man--monitor? bus driver? who knows?--stopped me and told me that we weren't allowed to pass in front of this bus, because we couldn't see any traffic that might be coming up beside the bus, IN THE PARKING LOT. I gave him my what am I, a moron, look, told him that I was capable of looking for cars before stepping out from the front of the bus, and continued right on my way. In front of the bus. And I lived to tell about it. Go figure.