Home Works

We work at being at home; our home works for our family. We are regular; regular seems rare. I try to look at the stars like my mother does each night -- proof we are all under the same sky.

Thursday, August 11, 2005

Knock on Wood

Well it turns out that tempting fate is unwise no matter what the language. Last night I wrote that I had become confident that Isaac would consistently get up and meet the bus.

This morning, he missed it.

He had slept too late, but apparently got ready quickly when Rick woke him up, but said he also did not hear the "back-up rings" that the bus makes when it turns around in front of our house.

I said again what I've said before, "The bus does not wait. You have to be outside waiting for it."

Then I drove him to school - very early, because with the construction of the new theater in the parking lot, traffic congestion is said to be terrible any time after 6:30 am.

He took a taxi to school in Ecuador, probably with a bit more flexibility in departure time.

I do think the bus was about three minutes earlier today than it has been the past few days.

He said he was dreaming when Rick woke him up. Still in Spanish, I'll bet.


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