I woke up this morning with visions of bright yellow, happy-faced school buses dancing in my head. It's back to school! And we all know what that means... hours and hours of freedom each day to pursue grown-up avocations while the children are busy with their organized educational activities!
All together now: YAY!!!
{crickets chirping}
Um, hello?
Oh.
That's right.
I almost forgot.
The part where the smiley-faced school buses disappear, the sky visibly darkens, and moms all over suburbia begin to make a peculiar and disconcerting transformation.
{cue the creepy horror movie music}
Looking up and seeing the sun begin its slow descent down the western sky (or checking their watches and finding that it's nearly 3 o'clock), we moms find ourselves racing out of meetings, tearing off our tennis outfits, throwing down the great American novel we were writing. The hair goes into a ponytail. The eyes go hidden behind sunglasses. As if in a trance, we begins assembling sundry items like water bottles, jock straps, lacrosse sticks and energy bars. Belted into the driver's seat of the SUV, the transformation is complete.
Mom is gone. In her place: The Chauffeur.
The Chauffeur drives all afternoon long, and sometimes well into the evening hours when dinner should be on the table, but it's not. The Chauffer is a creature of habit, not by choice but by design: endlessly, it seems, she drives along the same streets, over and over and over again, returning to the same places, stopping long enough to discharge passengers, then making her way to the next destination to which she is ceaselessly borne.
And then back again.
And again.
The Chauffeur is a solitary figure gripping the steering wheel, eyes darting now and again to the rear-view mirror, seeing, but largely unseen.
The Chauffeur is nearly invisible and often ignored.
The Chauffeur grows increasingly grim as she realizes that the task that has become her unwitting fate is seldom appreciated.
And terribly costly. Not just in terms of time, but in terms of environmental impact. Not to mention the impact on her wallet. You see, the Chauffeur can travel upwards of 100 miles in a single week, particularly when travel-league sports are involved, which can propel the Chauffeur to destinations as far-flung as clear across the county, and beyond.
But try not to hate the Chauffeur.
There is the horror of it all, clearly, yes.
But the Chauffeur is merely doing what she was created to do. Like Dr. Frankenstein's monster before her. And like him, the Chauffeur is really a gentle creature who tries to minimize her impact.
Sure, circumstances have forced her behind the wheel of an SUV, as opposed to a Prius. But the Chauffeur tries to compensate.
She would never allow the engine to idle, for example. If she finds herself parked in a long line of cars waiting to pick up one of her charges from religious school, for example, she turns off her engine. If she is called upon to drop off a forgotten helmet or music book, she would never think to leave her vehicle running while she did so.
And she tries to spread the gospel of "no idling," often at the expense of appearing to be a bit of a lunatic.
She also tries to spread the gospel of carpooling, which is a great idea in theory. In practice, it can aggravate the Chauffeur's already frayed nerves, with last minute cancellations, and the harsh reality that eliminating one car ride often does nothing more than make room for another. Nature abhors a vacuum, after all.
So please, if you cannot learn to love the Chauffeur, at least remember to thank her.
And in the meantime, it's back to school! And until the Chauffeur's inevitable return, I'm going to just say, "Yay!!!"