The wheels on the bus

The wheels on the bus


Last week I lost my wallet. I put it on top of my vehicle after realizing the keys were locked inside and my daughter was growing heavy on my hip.

Apparently, once inside the vehicle I drove away with the wallet and my daughter’s new shoes still outside. Really, no one but me actually cares about this but anyone who has ever lost their wallet knows what a pain in the ass it is to replace your bank cards, driver’s license and whatever else you had stashed away in there.

Anyone who has done this while traveling knows what a double pain it is.

A few days after donating my wallet to the highway, I am at the bank requesting a new bankcard. I am on the road and I need cash. The teller informs me she will post one out to me. I tell her this won’t be possible because I don’t have an address.

“Well, where do you reside?”

“Right now? In your parking lot.”

She looks at me for a minute and I know she is trying to work out if I’m drunk.

“Where do you live?”

She speaks slower and emphasizes the word reside. She thinks the problem is with my vocabulary.

“I live in a school bus. It’s outside.”

Now she’s focused on my baby playing happily in her stroller. I think she wants to call for help and I’m watching her hands to see if they reach for the secret security button. I know it’s there because I see it in movies.

I finally give up and withdraw some cash over the counter using my passport as my only remaining form of identification.

The next day, I have the same conversation with my new chiropractor. He tells me I need to come back tomorrow, but I tell him I’ll be out of town.

“Where do you live?”

Here we go again.

“In a school bus.”

“A yellow one?”

“Yes.” I don’t see how this is relevant.

He’s thinking.

“Was that your baby I saw earlier?”

“Yes. She also lives in the school bus.”

I have always had trouble being an adult. I didn’t want to grow up because I was having too much fun. Adulthood to me looked like doing a job I didn’t like, to pay bills for things I didn’t need, so I wouldn’t be able to do the things I liked, because I didn’t have the time to do them.

Adulthood sounded like saying no over and over and I wanted to say yes.

I didn’t get it. So I quit. I don’t adult.

I bought a school bus, transformed it into a nursery on wheels for my daughter and started driving around Canada. Right now we are lucky enough to be visiting old friends in Whistler. In a few days, we’ll start driving again. Where? Who knows? We’ll do what we like.

Legally, I have been an adult for almost half my life now. Mentally, I’m not quite sure where I’m at but I really like it here in Neverland. I don’t want to grow up.

If anyone finds my wallet, I’d love it back (even empty) as it was a gift from Mum on a trip to New York.

You can keep the “real world” though, because I really don’t want it.

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