Waiting for the bus that will deliver Bossy’s son home for the weekend. Because Bossy is there to drive him home, and she gets to feeling like a schoolgirl, with her butterflies and her happiness. Such was the case this past weekend as Bossy waited endlessly in her car.
And then there’s the inevitable unloading of the bus citizenry while Bossy darts her eyes from the back of the bus to the front, scanning for her son. And finally, there he is with his orange suitcase, loading it into the back of the car for a slice of time that will feel all too brief.