Lost and Found

When the kids in the back of the bus all stand up and start freaking out about something, usually they don't sit down until I physically go back there and figure out what's going on and how I can save the day. Today, one of the littlest apparently had been chewing on a paper towel and it must have been ripped from his playful jaws, for the surge of attention today was directed at a suddenly bloody hole in his gums. He lost a tooth. His mouth hung open, wider than his shocked eyes. I asked if he wanted a paper towel and he nodded absently, drool gathering, eyebrows furrowing, mind preoccupied with where his missing tooth could be. I got him a new, clean paper towel to collect the drool with and I ordered the show to be over and pockets to touch the seats and faces forward. We were off. When the kids were dropped off, and the bus parked in its cozy spot, and I was sweeping, I noticed that the high schooler that had brought a box of Nerds on the bus hadn't gotten them all in her mouth, and every pink one caught my eye, in case the little one's tooth was perhaps slightly bloody. A couple seats into the sweep I saw a tiny rounded rectangle in the corner. I slipped it into my pocket and continued sweeping up surprising amounts of nerds, random beads and lots of paper bits, but gratefully, no bloody, drooly paper towel. I have prepared a gift for the little one, for when he boards the bus tomorrow morning. He will be one tooth richer, although still one tooth down . . .




Also today I had an exciting thought. How cool would it be to have a traveling board meeting, where all your business was discussed around a fine table, sitting in cushy chairs -- all bolted to the open trailer bed behind a big rig, cruising down the highway at 70 mph? Paper weights would be your most valued office accessory. And a good hair scrunchy, for girls.