Caitlin went out to wait for the bus this morning (a minor miracle in itself, getting her out of the house and to the bus stop on time). A bus pulled up. It almost stopped, but not quite. The doors did not open. Caitlin did not approach the bus. The bus drove away.

I witnessed this all from the driveway, slack-jawed with amazement that the bus driver didn't even stop to ask Caitlin if she was waiting for the bus, and that Caitlin didn't think to walk toward the bus (this is a 9th grader we're talking about here, not some novice kindergartener). My jaw soon started working as I yelled to Caitlin from two houses away that it was her bus (as if I expected her to throw herself in front of the bus to get the driver's attention). There was apaprently some confusion because it was not the same number bus as she takes in the afternoon. I'll blame the other parental unit for this little bit of havoc (he got to drive her to school this morning as penance). Whether he actually had anything to do with not telling her is not entirely relevant.