Busses

I really do love the bus. I have not yet grown weary of the inefficient way it sucks up my time, or the way it inevitably comes early when I'm late, or comes late when I got there twenty minutes early. And only because of this simple reason: the people. They're all so incredibly different, but then, very alike. And yes, I know that's the most cliché, trite, and overused observation of all time, but really, it's true. Take, for example, the little old lady that stands alone, except for now the new addition of me at the deserted bus stop, every day. She has waited there in the rain, cold, wind and snow probably every week day for the past twenty years. Working at the hospital, in the laundry department, as I learned, I can see why she is riding the bus still, even at her age. A few brain cells are definitely missing, but goodness, she is very thoughtful. We were discussing the flaws in our judicial system today, and she noted how odd it was that when somebody commits murder, half the time they're not convicted at all, and when thye are, they usually only serve a few years. They are then released, and put back into society. But when somebody kills a bald eagle, a twenty five thousand dollar fine is slapped on, and they're stuck behind bars for a good portion of their life. As Rosa put it: "A person's worth more than a bird. Bird ain't worth nothing, it's just an animal. A person now, it's worth a lot. These here laws will have us getting in jail for hitting a possum now." I had to agree with her; our judicial system sure is lacking a good amount of common sense. But then the bus comes, and our conversation is over. I hop onto the next bus, still far from my ultimate destination. As it jolts back and forth, wheezing in front (I'm still not sure exactly what it is that wheezes, but there's something up there, let me assure you), my head bounces again the window, as I attempt a fitful sleep. A stop comes into view, and I see what looks like a couple kissing. At least, I see two heads, and they're kissing. Intrigued, now, of course I stare gawkily at them until they get on the bus. It turned out to be a mother and a baby. Of course, this wasn't as exciting as two young lovers making out on the bus, (THAT'S always funny... jk!!) but watching these two interact was unlike most other mother/baby relationships I've seen. That baby was so comfortable with his mom, it made my heart bleed with jealousy. As far as babies go, he wasn't really that cute. His face was a pasty pale white, and was kind of doughy. His wispy red hair stuck out in unseemly clumps, and he seemed chubby in all the wrong places. But he loved his mom. Every ten seconds or so, he would raise his head up from where it lay on her shoulder to carefully grab hold of her face and kiss her. Then he would smile that special toothless smile that only young babies have. Quivering with happiness, he would snuggle his head down again, shyly smiling at me, who was busy in the back grinning my face off at him. I want to be that kind of mom. The kind that her baby will interrupt his own nap to give her a kiss.