Why do we drive on parkways and park on driveways?

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

In which a transportation officer's head is bitten off and swallowed whole.

SnarkGirl starts school -- fourth grade! -- tomorrow, and OctoBoy reports to first grade on Thursday. Uniforms are clean and laid out, lunches are pre-packed and backpacks are at the ready.  Now all we have to do is deal with the buses.

OctoBoy never received a bus assignment, so I called the school district's bus coordinator this morning.

"He doesn't get a bus. He walks."

"When did this policy change? He had a bus last year."

"No, he didn't."

Uh...what? I pulled out the Big File of All Things School-related, and found last years' bus assignment card, and read off the various number groupings on the card.

"Well, we don;t have a bus for him. You'll have to deal."

"What about the 27 other kids on his bus? What about the four other kids that go to the same school and share the same bus stop?"

"They're screwed, too."

"Did you actually tell everyone this, or were we all supposed to wait at the damn stop for a bus that was never going to show? Is your office run by spineless troglodytes with the collective intelligence of slime mold?"

"Uh...we'll get it straightened out by the end of the month."

"School starts Thursday, for God's sake. I'm calling Sister Meatball and letting her know about all this. I'm sure she'll be fabulously pleased and have some input."

"Sister....Meatball? No, we can handle this. She doesn't have to know!"

Muahaha, motherfuckers. Sr. Meatball is the Big Gun, er Nun, and she's a formidable opponent. She may be a wee little thing, with white hair and a saintly smile, but she has a glare that could drop a rhino at 50 yards, and she Is Not To Be Fucked With when it comes to her little ones. She is a full napalm strike in a habit.

I called Sister. Sister harrumphed muttered some suspicious imprecations and told me it would be dealt with.

A half-hour later, OctoBoy and cohorts had their bus woes straightened out.

10 comments:

  1. Woe be unto those who cross the Mother Superior... :-) And good on ya for not putting up with their crap(and having the MS number)!

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  2. Speak truth to power... especially when it is MEAN power and on your side. (Heavy duty paraphrasing in use).

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  3. spineless troglodytes with the collective intelligence of slime mold

    I am so stealing that one.

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  4. *nom nom nom*

    I love the taste of self-important assholes in the morning.

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  5. Sister Meatball for the win! I'm not even Catholic and she sounds scary.

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  6. Catholic schools there have buses?

    Funky stuff; around here all private schools are just "figure out your own transport."

    Oh, and WIN.

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  7. Sounds like bringing the big gun to bear did the trick. Think he had to hold up dictionaries or get his knuckles rapped?

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  8. I am 65, and I still fear Sr. Mary Holy Water and her ruler!

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  9. "spineless troglodytes with the collective intelligence of slime mold"

    Contrary to popular belief, slime mold is actually fairly intelligent. See this note from SciAm.

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  10. "She is a full napalm strike in a habit."

    Ah, from the Little Sisters of Close Air Support? I had one of those in the second grade.

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