Would you believe that after a 20 hour bus ride (which started at 9:30 p.m. on Sunday night), my son and 10 other high school students were dropped off in the middle of Queens with their suitcases yesterday at rush hour? My son called me.
“I can’t find the subway,” he lamented.
I checked hopstop.com, my latest app. “Walk 1/3 of a mile Northwest and you will see the E train,” I told him.
“Huh?” he asked. This from the fourteen year old who thought they were stopping off for dinner on Long Island on the way to Nashville, Tennessee.
How do you drop eleven teens off in the middle of Queens after they have been travelling for six days? Apparently all eleven scurried off in different directions the second the bus doors closed… finally freed from one another after six days in very close proximity to one another… not to mention no showers for at least twenty hours.
“Ask someone,” I told him.
And ask he did. Everybody pointed him in a different direction. He walked and walked, getting more and more lost. A child after my own heart. Why oh why did he get his sense of direction from me? Guys are supposed to have a built-in GPS I thought, but not my son. What he lacks in a sense of direction though, he makes up for in kindness, good looks, intelligence, a gift at sports, and obviously, a knack for chess.
An hour later he walked into the apartment, exhausted. Tacos were waiting.
I am so glad that he’s home!