Years from now when I look back on February 2012 I will probably only recall one thing:
There was a fire. On my kids' school bus.
It started with smoke coming from the steering column on the afternoon ride home on February 8. There were only six children left on the bus and two of them were named Pellin. At the first sign of smoke, a merciful, brilliant, quick-thinking angel of a bus driver very calmly herded the children out the back emergency exit door. Within minutes, the dashboard burst into flames and engulfed the front of the bus while they stood safely a few yards away.
So the kids and driver were on the news, and the school and the fire department honored the driver with a plaque. I babbled something on camera about being eternally grateful to her forever, which I will be. I sounded like Ellie Mae Clampett. But an eternally grateful Ellie Mae Clampett.
While the camera was in my face I kept thinking:
There was a fire. On my kids' school bus.
February 2012 has brought many more things: The beginning of softball and baseball practice for both Olivia and Nate. Another sleepover each. The removal (finally) of my mother-in-law's knee brace. The Sunday that I sat down and wrote down two (TWO!) weeks of meal plans and grocery lists. The three nights in a row that I made it to bed by 9:30 p.m. Making a slow cooker of chili for staff appreciation day at school, which was well-received. Making apple dumplings for my dear friend from work, John, who's recovering from knee replacement. Going to our beloved City Tavern with our beloved Dawn and Steve.
See, I want to remember the good stuff, too. Even though there was (all together now) a fire. On my kids' school bus.
