Waiting for the Bus

My name is Nicky, I am 6. I have been at this corner for a while now. Waiting for the yellow bus. I am cold and tired and nervous. I have been getting a hard time from the kids who are bigger than me. I can't help it that I am six, they push and pick on me and just make my mornings scary awful. I don't like school very much because I have to take the bus.

I wait and wait. Its cold and wet and I can feel my socks bunching up in my boots. My toes are cold and I stamp my feet trying to to keep warm. Big Kid One and Big Kid Two are approaching me. They are the ringleaders in teasing, pushing and snow balls. I do not like them. I worry as they approach and take a deep breath.

"The bus has already come and gone" I say, pushing at the snow with the toe of my boot.

"Are you sure?" Big Kid One says, the one with big pink cheeks.

"Yes"

"Oh man! Lets get back to the house and see if Mom can drive us" Big Kid Two says.

They turn and grouch a bit as they hurry through the snow to catch a ride before all the grownups rush off to work.

After a minute or two, the yellow bus arrives and I get on... no pushing, no snow in my hair, no wet clothes and my own seat. I fix my socks, wiggly back into the seat and my toes begin to thaw.

As we turn onto the main drag that leads to school I see Big Kid One and Two walking....... and I wave as we pass by.

Never underestimate a 6 year old.