Dreams

I rode Bus No. 6

Why are dreams so weird? Last night I had a dream that my mom and dad had to go to the doctor because they had "scoobies," which evidently in my dream world is cooties of the gums. What? That doesn't make a lick of sense! Why on earth would I dream that? In the same dream, I was walking up the holler to my Mommaw's house and was right below her driveway when the school bus came rolling by. Because I didn't want to get run-over or be seen, I jumped off of the road down over the creek bank. That was fruitless, however, and Bill (my old bus driver) stopped and hollered out the window, "Allison, you need a ride to school? Aren't you teaching today?" I answered, "no" and Bill went on his way. Directly, Curt comes busting down the road on my purple bike. "Where are you going, Curt?" He replies, "Going to school. I missed the bus and my truck is tore up, so I have to ride the bike." I asked him, "Do you want me to drive you? [p.s. where was the car when I was hoofing it up the holler to Beetle's?] It's going to be mighty dangerous riding that bike and sharing the road with coal trucks." To which Curt says, "I'm good for the challenge." <---Dumbest dream ever.

Oh, the school bus. Brings back so many memories. My bus seat was shared with my buddy and cousin, John Irvin. In the mornings, we would sleep. We would prop our legs up on the back of the seat in front of us. Because I was the first to get on the bus, I always got the window seat. I propped myself up on that, using my jacket or backpack as a pillow. John would use my shoulder as a pillow. On the ride home, we'd usually do  our homework or tell jokes and make up songs about our cousins. One such song was about John Ed, it was set to the tune of George Thorogood's "Bad to the Bone," and went like this, "On the day John Ed was born, he had a turd in his mouth." Classic.

And I'll tell you this one just for shits and giggles because I know you've all heard it. When I was in 3rd or 4th grade, Edward Dale Brewer was an 8th grader and was a fellow bus rider. Well, earlier that hot, summer day, I had eaten half of a Snickers (or was it Baby Ruth) candy bar. Instead of throwing the other half away, I simply wrapped back in its package (with some extra tape for good measure) and stuck it in my pocket. On the bus ride home, the candy bar melted. Chocolate was all over the side of my pants. Edward Dale Brewer saw this and proceeded to hang his head out the window of the bus as it drove off and I stood alone at the top of my driveway, "Allison, did you poop your pants? Poopy pants. Poopy pants." What a jerk. If I hadn't have been 8 years old and mortified, I would've thrown a rock at that kid. "Poopy pants." What? Like I poop out the side of my hip!? Stupid Edward Dale Brewer.