@*^&@-headed Behavior

Sugar Mommy posted a few words for the parents in front of Candyland Elementary School. The eternal open warfare that is the pickup / dropoff lines for elementary schools far and wide are well-documented. I believe I, too, have said a few choice words to my fellow parents about their @*^&@-headed behavior.

But I have been avoiding that particular purgatory for many moons now, thanks to dropping the Denizens off an hour or so before school actually starts. All praise be unto onsite daycare, hallelujah, amen.

TODAY, however, I had to drop them off during {dramatic music} Regular Dropoff.

Yeah. It’s still a major beep-honkin’ mess.

Things that still amaze me. I got there well before crunch time. The attendants are there from about half an hour before school, and I got there with 29 minutes to go until the bell rang. In other words, crowds? Nope. No crowds. Smooth sailing, right up to the carefully painted on the asphalt dropoff slots.

In other words: There is absolutely no excuse for being a @*^&@-head right now. You cannot tell me you saved even two seconds by being a @*^&@-head. Even if you were a brain-surgeon on your way to save some poor motorcyclist from a lifetime of vegetative state after his tragic encounter with an anchovy-delivery truck (which, somehow, I rather doubt), you didn’t save enough time to make any difference.

There are four (4) dropoff slots. The idea is simple: You pull into the parking lot, enter the dropoff line and continue forward until you reach the first available painted slot. At this point (where, by the way, you are not blocking traffic), you can stop your vehicle, let Poopsie finish telling you the long, involved story about what-all s/he volunteered you to bring that day but forgot to tell you about until RIGHT IMMEDIATELY NOW OOPS SORRY MOMMY (not that this has ever happened to me) (ahem), and then shove Poopsie unceremoniously out the car door to get on with the hallowed learning experience.

So.

Can anybody explain the following to me.

Why were there several cars illegally parked in the bus pullout on the parkway so they could eject Poopsie into 40(60) MPH traffic? This is something I particularly want to know in light of the fact that there was a nasty accident there a couple weeks ago that could easily have killed anybody walking up the sidewalk, caused by people doing what? What was it they were doing again? OH YEAH! PARKING ILLEGALLY IN THE BUS PULLOUT TO LET POOPSIE OUT!!

And this in the rain, no less. The accident a couple weeks ago was in dry, clear weather and took out the fence and a fair bit of the lawn…and now? It’s raining. Pouring, in fact. And you, you dolt, are not only parking in that same illegal-on-account-of-because-your-butt-is-poking-out-into-traffic-you-DOLT spot, but you’re having your kid hop out on the left side of your vehicle, right into the parkway?!

Go ahead. Tell me Darwinism isn’t still at work in the world…

On a related note, let us revisit the concept of stopping for the crossing guard. When the crossing guard walks into the crosswalk with his sign held proudly aloft, this means…STOP. It does not mean, “Stop unless you don’t see any children” or “Stop if you feel like stopping” or “Stop but continually inch forward toward him until you are practically rolling over his toes” or even “Stop until you see the children he was helping across the street are fully across at which point FLOOR IT, even if the nice man is still standing IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET with his sign held on high.”

It means STOP, and STAY THAT WAY, until his sign is lowered AND he himself is safely on the other side of the street. Oh, you doubt me on that? Here, allow me to quote from the California Driver Handbook: Near schools, look for: …School safety patrols or school crossing guards and obey their directions. For the crossing guard’s safety, allow him or her to safely get to the side of the road before driving ahead. [emphasis ADDED GOL DANG IT!!!!]

Seriously, girl. What is your problem?! And also, can I please point out that the 8 seconds you gained by being a @*^&@-head were immediately lost at the next stop sign, thereby rendering them un-gained? Just sayin’…

Why did nobody in the parking lot pull forward to an actual dropoff slot? They were all free! All four of them! So why, why, why, did everyone feel compelled to stop in the middle of the line to let Poopsie out?!

And this…this is the one I really need an answer to right now.

Why did the daycare van driver choose to stop in the middle of the parking lot to let her charges out? In the middle of the parking lot! (See, this is why I am so grateful for the onsite daycare that, even though they piss me off with strange ‘miscellaneous’ charges and ‘oh yeah, we’re closed but you can drive Poopsie to one of our other centers a few miles away’ issues, I will not consider a daycare that involves transportation. They’re crazy, each and every one of them!)

I also need to know if she was really all that surprised when they immediately began fooling around in the parking lot, playing keep-away with the littlest kid’s backpack and running here and there in the traffic instead of marching in orderly fashion to their classrooms. The distracted traffic, because all of us parents were busy going, “Wait, you told Mrs. X I’d bring how many cookies? Today? You said I’d bring these TODAY?! When were you going to tell ME about this?!?!” (Not to mention ‘where’s your jacket’, ‘get your backpack / what do you mean you forgot it’, and ‘I just gave you lunch money how can you be out already?’)

So she stopped the 15-passenger van right in the middle of the driveway (with tiny children still in their carseats inside), blocked all traffic in or out, got out, and had to herd the cats children in the general direction of the yard duty.

Honestly.

I mean…HONESTLY!

However, I cannot stay angry at the world when I am about to leave the Den for THREE WHOLE DAYS to immerse myself in a world of fiber at Stitches. And a hotel room. Which I am not sharing with anybody.

With a television set in it.

And also a big, comfy chair for knitting. (Yes. I checked.)

And also, nobody asking me for juice, water, milk, help with homework, ‘what’s for dinner’, or any other thing.

For three whole days.

There will be sleeping in, watching of ‘parental supervision is suggested’ shows (ooooh goodies, they’re going to do an autopsy! Kewl!!), knitting-knitting-knitting AND OH YEAH, MAYBE SOME KNITTING.

I might even get enough knitting in this weekend that I'll get sick of knitting and take up embroidery instead.

Ha. Yeah. Right...