Monday, February 8, 2010

That's Why I'm Here

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Today, I had a hard time getting started. In fact, I honestly admit that I never got started, well, not until about 3pm. I think I was suffering from LackofJobWinterBluesitis.

And, if this was this disease I had, then the symptoms were as follows:

Uninterested in applying for any jobs
Failure to shower
Inability to change out of Nathan’s warm fuzzy pajama pants and my oversized sweatshirt
Unable to fold more than one laundry basket’s worth of clean clothes
Incapable of being more than 6 inches away from the TV remote

I had it, and I had it bad. When Iz got her flu shot, I should have inquired if there was a vaccine for this disease. Since my mobility was limited to TV commercials, I went upstairs when I saw the Geico gecko. (I’ve seen him so much lately, I do believe I’m smitten with him. I’m a sucker for green lizards with Cockney accents!)

I went in the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. Did I have anything I could take for LackofJobWinterBluesitis? Imodium? Mucinex? A cherry cough drop? Cat treats? (Wait a sec, how did these get in here?) Dental floss?

Perhaps if I ran the floss through one ear and out the other, I could jar the piece of blah stuck in my frontal lobe. I envisioned my hygienist taking it out and showing it to me while saying, “See! This is the build-up that blocked your dopamine; so that’s why you’ve had no drive and have just been acting dopey.” Oh, if only it were that simple!

I went back downstairs. I tried to tell myself, “Well, you were a single parent all last week, so you deserve a day to relax.” Obviously, the last symptom of LackofJobWinterBluesitis is “Powerless to accept the disease and get the proper treatment.”

My only commitment was to get Iz off the bus at 3:05pm. At 2:55pm, I got up, put my coat on, and headed out the front door. My symptoms were still raging, as I still hadn’t showered or gotten out of Nathan’s warm fuzzy pajama pants and my oversized sweatshirt. To add symptom to disease, I didn’t even bother to brush my hair; instead, I just threw on my Hello Kitty baseball cap. I was a wreck, albeit a beautiful one.

At 2:58pm, I heard the familiar squeal of the bus’s brakes as it headed down the street perpendicular to mine. At 3pm, I saw the bus take its right turn onto my street. One stop later, it was pulling up in front of me at 3:05pm. Needless to say, I know the bus’s modus operandi. (Thank you, Law & Order!)

When the bus doors opened, Iz came bounding out. Check, plus! Then Noah got off! Check, minus! The bus began to pull away, and there was no Noah.

I asked Iz, “Where’s Noah?” She replied, “He was on the bus.” I thought then that he must be going to a friend’s house, so I turned to head home with Iz.

Squeal! I turned around and saw that the bus had stopped about 25 feet down the street. The doors opened. Noah and Thomas got off. (Thomas didn’t live in our neighborhood; however, a few days a week, his Mom picked him up at our bus stop.) I instantly thought, “Hmmm. Thomas is getting off, but I don’t see his Mom’s car anywhere.” (Thank you, CSI!)

Thomas looked around; obviously, he just had the same thought I did. Where’s Mom’s car? I asked him if he was supposed to get off the bus today. He said, “No. But, I thought I saw my Mom’s car.”

It was time to start at the beginning and get a full account of the story from Thomas. (Thank you, Law & Order!) I asked him if he was to take the bus to begin with. He said he was, but he where he was supposed to go to his babysitter’s. Ah, so a phantom Mom’s car sighting had led him to believe he was supposed to get off the bus; there was no foul play here only a Temporarily Lost Victim. (Thank you, CSI!)

I told Thomas, Noah, and Iz to stay put in case someone should come looking for Thomas. I ran back to the house and got my phone. When I returned, I had Thomas call his Mom. Her phone was busy.

I then did the next best thing. I called the school. Of course, the main office did not pick up the phone. So, I asked Thomas if he knew how to get to his babysitter’s house. He said he did. I said, “Okay. I’ll drive you there.” We walked back to the house, I fetched my keys, and we were off.

Funny, but I think I was more upset about Thomas being “lost” than Thomas was. After all, he was a 5th grader; they’re known for being fearless and their love of adventure. Wait a sec, was that 5th graders or Cave Divers? Same thing, probably! Either way, I was not going to feel all right until I turned Thomas from lost into found.

After a 10-minute ride, we arrived in front of a little white ranch. I told Iz to wait in the car while I walked Thomas to the door. He was very quiet, and I wondered if he thought, “Who is this crazy woman acting like a detective and why is she still following me?”

He opened the porch door, and I followed him in. He then opened a door, which led into a kitchen. Three dogs ran out greeting the very elderly dog that had just sniffed my leg and then immediately said to Thomas, “She’s thinks she's a cop, doesn't she?”

A woman popped her head out the door. I said, “Thomas got off at the other stop today by accident.” She said, “Oh! I just sent my granddaughter out to look for him.” If that had been me, I would have been half bald due to ripping my hair out wondering where my child had gone!

Well, everyone is different, I guess. She thanked me, and then a little girl popped out from behind her said, “I know you!” (I get that a lot, especially in Nantucket.) Then she said, “Your Isabelle’s Mom!” Everyone knows Isabelle; I swear that girl is going to be on a billboard someday; “Iz for President” I hope and not Isabelle, Personal Injury Attorney.

When Iz and I got home, I got her a snack and then I looked at the neglected TV remote; it appeared the remote had taken out a restraining order on me. Suddenly, I could not get within 6 feet of it. I picked up my basket of clean laundry and headed upstairs to put it away, take a shower, and do many other neglected tasks.

I know I still have LackofJobWinterBluesitis; however, saving Thomas saved me a tad. I thought, “What if I had been at work and not at the bus stop?” What would have Thomas done? I’m sure he would have made his way somewhere somehow; however, it probably would have been more difficult and scary on his own. This afternoon when I was putting away clean clothes, I didn’t ask myself, “Why am I here?” Instead, I said to myself, “That’s why I’m here.”

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