BTS Part II, or I Could Invent a Pinball Game

Y-Chromo, at the last minute, asked for a ride to school. It's two miles. X-Chromo wept and begged me for a ride to school. It's one mile. TV Stevie makes them late. I think they should walk. They'd rather sleep.

So I drove them to school.

The rising sun was in my eyes as I drove to the High School, making it difficult to see the little darlings daring motorists to run over them. Although there was one kid with a modified Mohawk-Mullet whom Y-Chromo begged me to hit just because of the hair. "He deserves it for going out in public like that."

Cops & security all over the place. I know they don't mean anything, but seeing them doesn't do my heart good. Y-Chromo says, "It's the first day when everyone (all 4 grades) is back, and no one's been kicked out or dropped out yet, so it's crowded."

In the meantime, I accidentally go when I should have stayed stopped at a stop sign that's NOT a four-way stop, and the person who had the right of way was justifiably angry. Horn honking, fist shaking. My bad.

I dodged school buses, city buses, garbage trucks and recycling trucks on narrow north side streets where two MG Midgets couldn't pass gas even if there weren't illegally parked cars everywhere.

I cross J Street to drop off X-Chromo at Middle School, and now we're in the SF area. And of course, all the urban soccer moms in their gas-guzzling SUVs are illegally parked no where near the curb at every other intersection, motors running, while their suburban-wannabe teens in their preppie uniforms await public transportation to shlep them to their private schools. God forbid Amanda Kathleen (a/k/a/ Muffin) or Barton the Tenth walk 2 blocks and stand in the cool morning air to wait for the bus, much less attend public school. So why can't the moms park at the curb instead of in the intersections?

Finally, outer S, my very own, very mixed neighborhood.

And all the heavy equipment with which we lived from Sept 2005 to May 2006? IT'S BAAAAACK. Loud, grumbling, belching noxious fumes, and parked right outside my bedroom, living room and office windows, and across from my driveway, making leaving and departing a chore.

Oh #^(*, the jackhammers just started.