Random carpooling.
Monday morning. Ahh, another week begins. And it's my month to drive the carpool.
So I throw a sweatshirt on over my pj's and back the car out of the garage. And I wait for my daughter and the neighbor...
I watch in my rear view mirror as this kid wanders into my yard. He walks over to my car and gets into the back seat. I recognize him from the neighbor hood. I've seen him around. But I've never actually met or talked to him. And I don't know what his name is.
I'm waiting for him to say something. But he doesn't. He just sits there.
"So, where are you going this morning?" I ask.
"To the middle school," he replies.
"Well you're in luck---that's where I'm going." I still think he's going to explain why he's in my car. But he doesn't.
"Did my husband or someone tell you I would take you to school?" I know. It's awkward. But surely he talked to someone to make these arrangements. Right?
"No," he says. (Okay. Thanks for clearing that up.) And really I don't mind. Really. I don't. I'm going to the school anyway. It just feels so strange. And awkward. I mean is now a good time for me to ask him what his name is?
"So...you need a ride to school?" I just can't let it drop.
"Yeah. Um, my mom said the lady at the yellow house would take me to school." He mumbles this, clearly uncomfortable.
I live in a yellow house---and yet this still doesn't explain anything. Oh well. I tried.
For sure if he comes back tomorrow for a ride, I'm going to ask him what his name is.
