For three days a few weeks ago I picked up my friends' nephew from school and took him to his playgroup or babysitter. Basically, I chauffeured him from one place to the next. He is a cute boy, and very bright. He is very talkative and inquisitive, and says some of the funniest, and sometimes adult-like, things at times. Here are some of the conversations I had with him.
Monday (driving down McCormick Blvd.):
Him: What speed are you going?
Me: Forty-four.
Him, a few minutes later: What speed are you going now?
Me: Forty-six.
Him: But the sign says forty.
Me: Ummm...Yeah. I, ummm, accidentally pressed too hard on the accelerator.
(He continued to ask me what speed I was going for the rest of the fifteen minute ride, and then told me what the actual speed limit was.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tuesday (at the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru):
(I had turned on the windshield wipers to clean my window.)
Him: Why did you do that?
Me: My windshield was dirty so I had to clean it.
Him: Oh. Your wipers go like this. (He mimics the motion with his hands.)
Me: Yes, they do.
Him: Do all wipers go that way?
Me: I don't know. Maybe.
Him: Well, my Abba's wipers go the other way. (Mimics that too.)
Me: Oh, ok.
Him: Can you turn yours on again?
Me: No.
Him: Why?
Me: I don't need them anymore. My window is clean now.
Him: Oh, ok.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tuesday (on the way to the babysitter):
Him: What time is it?
Me: Twelve fifty-eight. Almost one o'clock.
Him: There is no one o'clock. It's a hundred.
Me: Yes, it looks like one hundred, but when you tell time, it's one o'clock.
Him: No, it's one hundred o'clock.
Me: No. There's one hundred, and one o'clock. When you learn to tell time it is one o'clock.
Him: Hmmmm....I'll have to talk to my mom about that and see.
Me: Ok. You do that.
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Wednesday (arriving at the playgroup, getting out of the car):
Him: Oy! I'm so tired!
Me: You are? Why?
Him: I barely slept at all last night!
Me, thinking, "Kid, you have no idea..."
Me: Oh, why was that?
Him: I don't know! I just didn't sleep and I'm so tired.
Me: Well, maybe you'll get a good night's sleep tonight.
Him: I hope so! I'm just so tired right now!
We had many more interesting and funny conversations, but unfortunately, that is all I remember. However, I am watching my three and half year old cousin for three weeks, of which two are left, so I will definitely be adding some stories from her.
Showing posts with label Transportation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Transportation. Show all posts
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Monday, November 10, 2008
The Bus Drivers' Daughter
On the bus ride home today, I made a new friend. I don't know her. I don't her name. I don't even know how old she is. However, I learned more about her in ten minutes than I do of most of my coworkers after three months, thanks to my wonderful bus driver. He was talking to some woman on the bus, and I, and whomever else was lucky enough to be sitting up front, got to hear all about it.
She's an athlete. Basketball and volleyball season is coming up for her, so that means she'll do nothing around the house, not that she ever did before. She whines. A lot. "Go into the kitchen, cut up some watermelon into little pieces, and pierce them with a toothpick and bring them to me." (Verbatim from her bus driver father.) Originally, he told her to do it herself. Then he said he gave in and did it for her. Last week she bought $105.00 worth of bras. Actually, there were only two bought. And apparently, she's heavy, and has quite a large chest. Not like her mother though; her mother is smaller, smaller than her father. (Let's not go into how this is her FATHER talking about her like this. That's a whole other discussion.) She wants to go to the University of Notre Dame (which leads me to believe she is sixteen to seventeen years old; safe assumption, no?) She has good grades, which, according to her bus driver father, she'll need to get into the University of Notre Dame. She's spoiled (he said it first, as did his passenger friend).
So that is my bus drivers' daughter. A spoiled, well stacked, athletic teenager. As I said, I learned more about her in ten minutes than I ever learned about my coworkers. Sad, isnt it?
She's an athlete. Basketball and volleyball season is coming up for her, so that means she'll do nothing around the house, not that she ever did before. She whines. A lot. "Go into the kitchen, cut up some watermelon into little pieces, and pierce them with a toothpick and bring them to me." (Verbatim from her bus driver father.) Originally, he told her to do it herself. Then he said he gave in and did it for her. Last week she bought $105.00 worth of bras. Actually, there were only two bought. And apparently, she's heavy, and has quite a large chest. Not like her mother though; her mother is smaller, smaller than her father. (Let's not go into how this is her FATHER talking about her like this. That's a whole other discussion.) She wants to go to the University of Notre Dame (which leads me to believe she is sixteen to seventeen years old; safe assumption, no?) She has good grades, which, according to her bus driver father, she'll need to get into the University of Notre Dame. She's spoiled (he said it first, as did his passenger friend).
So that is my bus drivers' daughter. A spoiled, well stacked, athletic teenager. As I said, I learned more about her in ten minutes than I ever learned about my coworkers. Sad, isnt it?
Monday, August 18, 2008
Naked Pictures and Public Transportation
I take public transportation on a daily basis. It's ok; not the greatest, but it gets me where I need to go, which is home. The train is fine; nothing much to say about it. There is the occasional goofy or weird person, but for the most part, it's really not that bad. Now, the bus on the other hand, that's another story.
Let me start by saying that I hate taking the bus. It takes me through some of the worst and scariest neighborhoods in my area. That being said, it does give me some great stories. The one I'm about to tell is one of the funniest, if not the weirdest, experience I have ever had on public transportation.
There is a woman I see on the bus almost every day. I never paid her any attention, as I do to most of the people on the bus. However, as much as you might want to, you cannot ignore her. She is loud. She spends most of every bus ride talking on her cell phone, and not in a normal voice, but in a loud, black-woman-telling-everyone-her-business type of voice. (You know those kinds of people, I'm sure. They get on the phone, and begin to talk so loudly that you can't help but hear, and you learn more about them in one ride than you learned about your coworker in a month.) She does that the first few times I see her, and if not talking, she's texting.
On the bus one day last week I see her, and, as usual, she's on her phone withn two minutes of getting onto the bus, and as usual, she's loud. But this is not her usual, blah blah blah conversation. She starts yelling. (Oh, I forgot to mention, she has this loud, raspy, kind of smoker-type voice.) "What?! He said that???!!!!! Why would he say that???!!!!" Silence (bless the second), and then "Why would I do something like that? Why would you believe him? I'm so steamed right now, you have no idea!" And she hangs up.
In the meantime, I'm thinking, "Thank goodness. Maybe if she's mad at the guy, she won't talk on the phone to him and the rest of the ride will be (fairly) quiet." Nope. Not at all. Wishful thinking. Not even five minutes later she's on the phone again, yelling. This time, louder than before, if that's possible. So, the bus makes a few stops, and a few minutes later, it comes to what I like to call the "Grunge Stop." I call it this because it stops in an area where all the "grunge" people get on. I know, not nice. But it's true. It's the type people who, when they get on, just creep you out. I'm sure you all know those types of people. Anyway, I hate the stop. The creepiest people get on the bus there.
So, we make the stop, and everyone is slowly shuffling their way of the bus, while she's still yelling on the phone, saying the same things as before. However, just as everyone gets off the bus and the bus is about to close it's doors, she gets up, walks across half the bus (she was sitting in the middle section), and gets off. But as she's doing this, she's yelling, "WHY THE HELL WOULD I SEND HIM NAKED PICTURES OF MYSELF??????!!!!!" Yes. No joke. We ALL heard. And you knew everyone heard because the whole entire bus was quiet after she got off. For about five seconds that is.
I still see her. In fact, over the last week I learned she has a three year old daughter who loves Dora and changes her clothes about five times a day. Just last week she bought a little Dora necklace for her daughter--a surprise. I guess I'm saying this because it reminds me that they are people too. Loud, obnoxious, and annoying, but people nonetheless.
Let me start by saying that I hate taking the bus. It takes me through some of the worst and scariest neighborhoods in my area. That being said, it does give me some great stories. The one I'm about to tell is one of the funniest, if not the weirdest, experience I have ever had on public transportation.
There is a woman I see on the bus almost every day. I never paid her any attention, as I do to most of the people on the bus. However, as much as you might want to, you cannot ignore her. She is loud. She spends most of every bus ride talking on her cell phone, and not in a normal voice, but in a loud, black-woman-telling-everyone-her-business type of voice. (You know those kinds of people, I'm sure. They get on the phone, and begin to talk so loudly that you can't help but hear, and you learn more about them in one ride than you learned about your coworker in a month.) She does that the first few times I see her, and if not talking, she's texting.
On the bus one day last week I see her, and, as usual, she's on her phone withn two minutes of getting onto the bus, and as usual, she's loud. But this is not her usual, blah blah blah conversation. She starts yelling. (Oh, I forgot to mention, she has this loud, raspy, kind of smoker-type voice.) "What?! He said that???!!!!! Why would he say that???!!!!" Silence (bless the second), and then "Why would I do something like that? Why would you believe him? I'm so steamed right now, you have no idea!" And she hangs up.
In the meantime, I'm thinking, "Thank goodness. Maybe if she's mad at the guy, she won't talk on the phone to him and the rest of the ride will be (fairly) quiet." Nope. Not at all. Wishful thinking. Not even five minutes later she's on the phone again, yelling. This time, louder than before, if that's possible. So, the bus makes a few stops, and a few minutes later, it comes to what I like to call the "Grunge Stop." I call it this because it stops in an area where all the "grunge" people get on. I know, not nice. But it's true. It's the type people who, when they get on, just creep you out. I'm sure you all know those types of people. Anyway, I hate the stop. The creepiest people get on the bus there.
So, we make the stop, and everyone is slowly shuffling their way of the bus, while she's still yelling on the phone, saying the same things as before. However, just as everyone gets off the bus and the bus is about to close it's doors, she gets up, walks across half the bus (she was sitting in the middle section), and gets off. But as she's doing this, she's yelling, "WHY THE HELL WOULD I SEND HIM NAKED PICTURES OF MYSELF??????!!!!!" Yes. No joke. We ALL heard. And you knew everyone heard because the whole entire bus was quiet after she got off. For about five seconds that is.
I still see her. In fact, over the last week I learned she has a three year old daughter who loves Dora and changes her clothes about five times a day. Just last week she bought a little Dora necklace for her daughter--a surprise. I guess I'm saying this because it reminds me that they are people too. Loud, obnoxious, and annoying, but people nonetheless.
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