Young Love

As I’ve mentioned before, Leah has developed an unlikely interest in school buses. She was afraid of them for awhile, but once she realized that they posed no threat to her, her love for them was cemented. This love has lasted much longer than I ever imagined it would. Lucky for her, we live right down the road from the utilities department for our county board of education, and that’s where they park the buses when not in use. She knows when we’re near the buses, too, or even if we’re not near at all but she wants to be. From the back of the car comes a repetitive little chant, more in the form of a question than a demand: “Bus? Bus? Bus? Bus? Bus?” And I, unable to deny her the simple pleasure of seeing the buses, veer into the parking lot for a brief visit.

She loves it. She sits in silence for much of our short visit, making me wonder if she is even paying attention. I look to the back seat, though, and I see her wide-eyed amazement at all of the buses, sitting in line, waiting for someone to love them as much as she does.

Eventually, I turn the car toward the road, and she knows the visit is over. “Bye-bye, bus. Bye-bye,” she says, waving her little hand.

We pull onto the main road, and she begins again. “Bus? Bus? Bus? Bus?” That will have to wait until tomorrow, sweet girl, or at least until we’re on our way home. The schedule-oriented adult in me cringes at the thought of the time wasted looking at parked school buses. The mama in me loves to make her little girl smile, though, and if it comes as cheaply as a few minutes creeping through a dusty parking lot, I’m willing to splurge. I’m happy to do it for her.