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September 16, 2003 - Tuesday
One of my pet peeves about getting Harry at preschool is that there is a daytime nursing center for seniors in the same building complex as Harry's school and, with a similar pickup time for many of them, there are often a row of senior shuttle buses, parked (rudely, in my opinion) in front of the preschool entry way waiting to move into place in front of the senior facility. The drivers argue that there is nowhere else for them to wait, regardless of how it may block traffic to the preschool. I see other possibilities. So, when Harry has asked why I didn't park near the sidewalk or why I parked so far away, I have tended to answer that it was "because the darn buses were in the way when I got there." I pretty much knew the implications of what I was saying when I started saying that, well aware that it wouldn't be too long before Harry picked up on it. So now, my son walks out of his school and answers his own question in his articulate young voice and it comes out sounding like "darn" is just another adjective (red bus, white bus, darn bus). Somehow, in an admittedly self-indulgent way, it makes me grin and is very therapeutic.

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