Growing Up- First Bus Ride

When I was 10 and my brother was 8 we started to take the city bus halfway home to Mom’s office. She told us to go to the corner down the hill from our school and take the first bus that went by- they all ran downtown where her office was. So that is what we did.

Unfortunately, Mom was wrong, there was one bus that did not go downtown and according to Murphy’s inevitable law, that was the first one that ran past the first day we took the bus.

So, of course, the street corner we were supposed to get off on, never arrived. I kept looking for it and we kept riding until we came back to where we started from. Then I made my brother get off the bus with me and walk back up to the school and call my Mom (who was, by this time, totally panicked). She called my Dad who was half a city closer to come pick us up. My Dad, instead of coming himself, sent one of his coworkers.

Now, like all kids, my brother and I had been told and told again not to ride with strangers. So when this stranger showed up, I refused to get in the car and refused to let my brother get in either. I made him radio my Dad and then made Dad give me a description of him, tell me his name and made him show me his driver’s license. (He was legit, after all) I heard him telling Dad that he’d never been so grilled by a 10 year old before.

So the ‘old’ woman got home that night.

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