Year: 2008

We just had an enormous scare. It was expected. Sarah entered Rocky Hill Elementary School in the third grade. On her first day home, she failed to get on her bus and we drove to the school to pick her up. On her second day home, she rode the bus but did not get off at her stop which was no problem; the bus driver drove her back to the school and we picked her up. Amy now shares a similar story.

On Monday, I picked Amy up in the carpool because we had to rush over to the Expo Center to work the School Matters booth. That confused the teachers so on Tuesday they sent her to the carpool instead of putting her on the bus so I picked her up in the office. Today was her first day riding the bus home. I could not find Cathy and assumed she was napping. Tweet! I leashed Dharma for some much needed training, donned by iPod with some Jimmy Buffett playing, and walked calmly to the bus stop where I realized my cell phone (doubles as my timepiece) was still sitting on my desk. Much to my surprise, Cathy walks up to me announcing, "that’s strike 2!" referring to my failure to respond to her text message asking about where the children get dropped off this year. The bus pulls up and 4 neighborhood children bounce out but not our Amy. In our stunned silence, the bus just starts to pull away. We were too far away to converse with the driver. I almost whistled for him but assumed Amy was in the office at the school. A moment later one of the children is explaining that Amy was on the bus! I have transportation’s number on speed dial on my cell phone but the phone is on my desk 1/4 mile away and we are on foot. Cathy calls the school as we make haste toward the house and they explain that they don’t have a way to call the driver. No worries. The bus will just take her back to the school at the end of the run.

I return to the house and decide to get back to work. Cathy is going to run around and fetch Amy, and her older sister and a friend from the high school. Everyone is calm. We part company and a few seconds later my cell rings to tell me the school called and Amy got off at Dunbarton Oaks! Tweet! That’s on the wrong side of the dangerous and busy, dreaded Northshore Drive! With Amy’s hard-headedness I could easily see her crossing Northshore. I direct Cathy, "take a right on Northshore then immediately turn left into Dunbarton Oaks." She calls back, "I’m at Kingsington." I picture her in Farragut (which she’s not) hours away from being able to reach Amy who is obviously playing Frogger on Boothillshores Drive. I race out the door and pretend like I’m still a sprinter in high school track. Tweet! It doesn’t matter if I have a heart attack as long as I reach Amy in time! I reach and cross Northshore. Cathy calls to say she has been in Dunbarton Oaks and one road closer to our neighborhood, which I’d forgotten existed, and there is no sign of Amy. Tweet! By this time, I’m at the same cross road as Cathy and I take the drivers seat in the van along with my wheezing. Tweet! Cathy gets a call to say a mother, who used to be a teacher, has Amy in her yard in Dunbarton Oaks and is waiting for us. Tweet!

Thank you to everyone who Twittered your thoughts as we lived this scare! Thanks to @Critter, @nathanblevins and here, @Digitarius, @knoxgirl75, @MariAdkins, @bobmissy07, @alanstevens, @overtlytrite, @dwneylonsr, @mwoodvols, and @areynolds65! And thanks to all others that were thinking of Amy. Hope I didn’t miss anyone. Thank you all! It would not have surprised me (nor Amy) much if someone pulled up and said, "I’m from Twitter! Stay right here your parents will be here in a moment." Of course, I hope she would not get in the car unless she knew you.

Related: I do blog the kids lives