This morning, a dad who typically travels most weekdays, walked his daughter to the corner. He was greeted with, “Welcome to our world!” “Where’s your wife?” “Did you quit your job?” And “Bus Stop Etiquette Orientation starts at Noon.”
“Is it always this lively in the morning?”
“Oh yes,” we smiled from behind our coffee cups. As if we’re going to give away any Bus Stop Mommy secrets — namely, there are, on very rare occasions, mornings at the corner when we’re not, and I’m not being critical, thrilled to be there. But you didn’t hear that from me.
New Daddy was back for afternoon pick up. “Hey Karen, when are you going to write about the Bus Stop Daddies?”
“The who — uhhh, well, uh, soon. I’ll write about you guys soon!”
The kids arrived. New Daddy left. We sent the kids home and held an emergency Bus Stop Mommies Now What? Meeting.
If we allowed daddies to be remotely related to the sacred sorority of Bus Stop Mommies, how would we classify them? How would they qualify? And why are they at the corner on a weekday instead of slaving away in an office for the good of the family and that new pair of shoes I’ll die without?
Banker Daddy is home when the kids are out of school every Monday Federal holiday.
Lawyer Daddy occasionally drives past the morning bus stop, thirty minutes after the other daddies left for work, but only because he has a big case and won’t get home until dark.
Doctor Daddy, on his day off after answering calls all night, often gets accosted for medical advice and avoids the bus stop at all costs.
Teacher Daddy is handy when your kid misses the bus. He’s always the first to know when there’s a snow day. You never know when he’ll be at the corner — depends on his coaching schedule.
Franchise Daddy is a mystery. His wife swears he exists, but he works such long hours, we have our doubts.
Then there are the Standard Neighborhood Bus Stop Daddies. Their kids catch the bus on other corners, but we know who they are.
Hunky Daddy always seems to drive by (in his cool car) when we’re standing there in our sweaty yard work clothes. We assume his wife couldn’t possibly appreciate him enough.
Work-at-Home Daddy would drive me nuts. He’d totally mess up my daytime routine — especially blowing any chances of sneaking back to bed after the kids get on the bus.
Freaky Daddy stares too long and lurks in the streets. Doesn't this guy have a job? Or a shirt?
Stay-at-Home Daddy works hard at home, is involved in several charitable, school and civic endeavors, disciplines the kids and has dinner ready when the working mom gets home. He is the envy of all the other Commuting-to-the-Windowless-Office Dads.
We decided categorizing daddies was easy. Letting them into our Bus Stop Mommy sorority? Impossible.
Karen Rinehart is a syndicated newspaper columnist, public speaker, and creator of The Bus Stop Mommies™. Her book, Invisible Underwear, Bus Stop Mommies and Other Things True To Life, is a popular read in book clubs, school pick up lines, and soccer fields. She enjoys hearing from readers across the States and as far away as Australia, Japan, and England. You can read more at BusStopMommies.com. Karen lives in North Carolina with her two kids, two dogs, and one husband, where they attend St. James Catholic Church. (Well, they leave the dogs at home.)
