Surprise from a School Bus
Yesterday I got stuck in traffic behind a school bus. The back seats, historically the prized position of the most cutthroat of popular kids, were occupied by adolescent boys. As our vehicles inched forward, missing multiple stop light cycles, I could see the boys laughing with each other and looking my way. Meanwhile, I listened to music and thought about who I would call if my cell phone still had a charge. There was a bit of a commotion and suddenly a piece of notebook paper with a message scrawled on it was slapped against the back window.
Now, it’s been about two decades since I’ve been a student on a school bus, but I still haven’t forgotten the type of antics typical of this age group. Most certainly this sign would tell me that I sucked or would share some kind of negative insight about my mother.
“Pretend you don’t see it,” I thought and fiddled with the radio, “Don’t look it. Don’t look at it.”
But I did. And the sign didn’t berate me! Instead it simply said:
And just like that, the corners of my lips curled upwards.
I smiled in a traffic jam.