We need to leave the house at 7:40, and the bus comes around 7:45. We should meet it at the end of the driveway/little road leading up from our apartment building, but if we're not there the driver makes the extra step to come find us.
7:38 -- Children are eating their eggs, all dressed and washed. Their backpacks are packed with every item they might need and set out neatly. I lay out their shoes and put their extra toast in a paper towel.
7:39 -- Children standing up to put on shoes. I put Buttercup in wrap.
7:39:16 -- Hibiscus realizes she doesn't have any juice. There is no more juice in the house. Emerson thinks he has a tummy ache and actually wants to stay home today.
7:40 -- Hibiscus is laying on the floor, screaming and kicking her feet. Emerson is starting to cry, but putting on his shoes. Buttercup is fully contained.
7:42 -- Hibiscus is violently going through every container in the fridge, trying to see if it has juice. "Look, dis one for jwiss!!" she accuses me. I try to convince her that, because the whole thing is bloated and the cap is stuck on and there's barely any sloshing, it has gone very bad. I don't convince her, but she can't get the cap off anyways.
7:44 -- Emerson and I are at the top of the stairs leading out from our apartment. Hibiscus is screaming at us to wait. She then meticulously adjusts every aspects of her shoes in order to get her feet in, and apparently cannot move if it is not perfect. While we wait, I ask Emerson to buckle my sandals, which I haven't even bothered to do yet. Emerson starts to sob that he will be missing me too much.
7:45 -- Hibiscus still doing who-knows-what with shoes. Emerson in full melt-down mode.
7:46 -- both children at top of stairs. Emerson insists that if he had a clock to know when I would come, he could manage the day, but he needs a new paper for the clock that tells him when 3 o'clock gets here. Still sobbing, but showing signs of being able to get in control. Hibiscus, off-hand and superior: "me, I go for school. I no for crying."
7:47 -- I hear a car in the driveway. I tell the children to wait and run inside for the clock. Emerson insists on sitting on the wall. The security guard tries to get the children to go outside the gate so he doesn't have to open and close it for the car twice. Emerson wails.
7:48 -- I grab our one and only clock and make the world's quickest drawing of 3:00 on a scrap of paper. The car rolls in, driver taps his watch.
7:49 -- Emerson is screaming that he needs his clock. The bus driver is trying to tell him to be a good boy. Hibiscus is getting in the car, but then she stops and wants to open the clock and look at the paper. NO! It goes in the backpack. Emerson calms enough to need carrying, but not shoving into the car. Jumps out and cries that he needs two more hugs and three more kisses. Cuddle. Back in the car.
7:51 -- Car drives away, children inside. The driver cannot resist giving me a glare that says "why can't you have your children ready at 7:39, like all the other children are ready one minute BEFORE the bus comes?"
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