I used to walk 20 miles to the bus stop, uphill each way, alone.
Living out here in the real world, it’s easy to forget that moonbats like you actually exist. Is this real, or a parody of modern Liberal hyper political correctness?
Yes, because as others have pointed out the best way to have quality one on one time with your kid is in front of all their peers at the bus stop.
Not if they wait in the car.
More parody?
Well it helps to be a monster when raising serial killers… sorta gives that experience to hand down to the next generation.
Fine, but can you turn the fucking engine off while you have the only ten minutes of private time you will get with your daughter for the entire day? I realize that standing outside in 75-degree temperatures will potentially cause you to melt, but those of us who are standing outside in what is apparently the Saudi Arabian desert of the bus stop would appreciate not having to breathe in your fumes, Captain Self-Absorbed. Or maybe you could just have your private time in your very own driveway. Or, and this is a radical concept, you could sit down and eat dinner with your kids or talk to them at bedtime or do something else that doesn’t involve sitting in a running motor vehicle parked 100 yards from your house.
They say that the crazier and badly behaved you were as a kid the more likely your kids will be well behaved, and vice versa.
I only can assume this is also true of serial killing.
Or ya know you could kindly close the drapes, Gladys Kravitz, and not let yourself get all overcome with the vapors because I choose to carve time out with my child in a manner that works for me and my family. How the fuck am I supposed to teach them how to garrotte their victims over the dinner table while I am urging them to eat their fava beans and drink their chianti?
I would just like to share with you that I got my remote starter installed my new SUV yesterday. I specifically did it now because it was hot this week and I like to start it for ten minutes for the AC to cool it down before I get in it.
Why don’t you write up a list of all the approved times for people to talk to their kids and distribute it to your neighbors? Since you know so much better than them how to go about living their lives I’m sure they would appreciate you sharing your wisdom about what times and places are appropriate.
Well, I’m glad it took us less than a page to divide up into camps on this one. Side one: “I get ten minutes per day to talk to my teenager! If you loved your child like I love mine you’d understand that! Why do you hate people who talk to their children? Are you opposed to talking? Or children? OR BOTH? You monster.”
Side two: “I have asthma now from breathing in your gas fumes, you environmental disaster of a human being. Everyone else on the planet is capable of finding time to spend with their kids outside of a damn car, so why can’t you? Is it because you hate other people, or just the concept of exercise? OR BOTH? You monster.”
I’m fully in camp 2 on this one, just so everyone is aware. I’m having T-shirts made up this afternoon.
The pitting would be better if Tiffany walked to the bus stop and the mother drove alongside until the bus picked her daughter up. As it stands, it is a rant about people talking in private and wasting a buck’s worth of gas every week.
Just to follow up, we know the kid and her parents socially (and in fact, Mrs. B. works with the mother). The girl is completely, totally ordinary, if perhaps a bit shy - but so is our daughter. Unless there is something really well hidden, there is NO reason for this behavior, not every single school day. Storm days? Sure. Snow days? Sure. I tend to stand by the front door listening for the sound of the bus so I can hustle our kids out the door without having to have them stand in freezing temps or rain or snow. But every day? Hell naw.
It does get worse. There’s one parent I see often, sitting in their SUV at the foot of the driveway, idling, in any weather, waiting for the homeward bus to get there. (A matter of common timing and having to stop behind the bus while it unloads.) Out of the bus pops a perfectly normal 6- or 7-year-old, who jumps in the car and… mom backs up about four carlengths and parks, and they trot into the house. Rain, shine, snow, warm, cold… I shitya not. Even if the kid is some degree of special needs, there is no reason mom can’t wait at the front porch or walk down to take Junior’s hand in a perfectly reasonable amount of time.
I have to question the sanity of parents this… obsessive.
That’s what I don’t understand. If she really wants her kid to be in a car instead waiting for the bus why doesn’t she just drive her kids to school everyday? I thought the whole point of having to use the bus was because the parent had to work or something in the morning and can’t get the kids to school at the right time. That’s why I drive my kids to school, because I have a job where I can choose when I start and when I end my day and I have the ability to drive them to school. Otherwise they would have to use the bus and it would be out of necessity and I wouldn’t have the ability to sit in a car and watch them at the bus. If I was that woman’s daughter I would think my mom didn’t trust me to stand at the bus stop and not get lost.
I guess I just don’t understand why you care.
If there’s any single reason I can point to in justification of my annoyance at the practice, it’s that it’s snobbish as hell. What, our kids and the other two middle schoolers aren’t *good *enough to stand with?
There’s also the case of blocking the fucking road; it’s not particularly wide and mom doesn’t pull too far to the side. So any traffic (2-3 cars, most mornings) has to squeeze past, aware that there are kids at the corner who represent a slight safety issue.
Of course, the afternoon crowd of cars and parents waiting for the elementary school bus (5-6 kids, 3-4 cars plus a couple of parents who walk) jams up both streets for 10+ minutes, and gawdelpya if you show up at the same time as the bus; it’s Manhattan gridlock to unsnarl it. (I don’t mind parents of younger kids coming to pick them up, but OTOH most have no more than a 500-foot walk in one of the safest communities in North America. Most can see their front porches from the bus stop, and vice versa… driving down there may be just a tad excessive.)
Oh, and no - none of this is because Timmy and Tiffy and Lindsey have to be rushed right to soccer practice. All of them go right home.)
… but from the age of 11 my journey to school consisted of:
- 6 minute walk to train station
- 20 minute train journey to King’s Cross*
- two stops on underground (5 minutes)
- 2 minute walk to school premises
*never saw Harry Potter though
I don’t have any kids, and know nothing about raising children; so of course I must have an opinion.
You are all bad parents with dirty, ugly children.
Let me know when you need parenting advice…
How the hell do you glean this from that? If it was snobbish and we didn’t want our children consorting with … your kind <looks down nose at>, we would have Jamison drive her to school in the stretch Navigator instead of letting our precious snowflake anywhere near that gaudy nightmare of an eyesore called a “school bus”. filled with those interminable DNA misfires of our (ugh) “neighbors” .
Your convenience is more important than a half dozen other people’s convenience combined. Got it.
We have security guards at the gates to our private road watching for people following our children home everyday.
Couldn’t we call her “Madison” or “Kayla” or something? The anachronism of a 13-year-old named Tiffany is kind of jarring. Girls were named Tiffany when I was 13.
Bee-sting allergy.
She’s fragile.
Is it a lot more virtuous if the parents sit in their Mini-Cooper with Teen Princess at the bus stop with the engine running?
There is a hint regarding why people in general care about things like this, and it’s not-too-subtly tucked away in MsWhatsit’s strawman representation of “Camp 1” a few posts above.
As for me? Well, my mom and/or father and/or stepfather drove me to high school every day until I got my own car (well, more precisely, until my then-girlfriend got her own car). The bus didn’t come to my house, as it was too close to the school; I could have walked - indeed, did walk, every day, from school to home - but I didn’t. The drive took about ten minutes, including traffic. On the drive, we talked. Usually, it was just administrative stuff - what’s happening today and when - which I have always found most useful early in the day. Other times, we had more serious conversations. It was a practical time for such things. At the dinner table? I had a seven year old brother and six year old sister, and I was even less likely to talk seriously with my mom or dad in front of them than in front of my friends. Bedtime? Whose? By the time I was 14 I had no formal bedtime at all, and at the time my mom and stepfather went to sleep I was usually either on the phone or studying. So we had our system and it worked for us. And I can tell you that no one worth a minute’s time at my school gave one single tiny crap about how I got to the building that day, or dedicated even one passing thought to whether or not it was “weird.”
Now it doesn’t work for everyone. There are lots of potentially valid approaches to parenting that all result in a good, happy, well-adjusted kid who likes and respects his parents. Did the parents of my friends who did walk to school love them less than mine loved me, or care less about spending time together? Of course they didn’t. They just found other times and places, that worked for them.
Anyway, now I have a daughter. The bus picks her up from the foot of my driveway, and I’m usually long gone by the time she even wakes up. But on days when I am working from home, or have a day off, I’ll usually walk down with her and we’ll wait for the bus together. And we’ll talk about whatever; sometimes it’s meaningful; sometimes it’s not. And yes, there are plenty of other chances to talk, but here’s one chance and we take it. It’s fun. I like hanging out with my kid; she’s pretty cool. Do you think that it’s weird? Because my kid doesn’t, and frankly, I care way more about what she thinks of my parenting than what you do.