Drop-Off

Everyone has a routine in their own life that is specific to them. Some are shared by other people as well, but not all. Routines like dropping off kids at school, hitting the gym three times a week, meeting friends for dinner once a month - stuff like that. Before about 3 years ago, I did not share the drop-off routine. Now, I do.

You've seen us. Probably not me, specifically, but we're everywhere. Open parking lots, fast food restaurants, gas stations. Usually off a main road. There are typically more than one set of us at a time in these "common" drop-off areas. Around 4:00 - 7:00 p.m. every Friday and every Sunday. Two cars pull up. One with a parent and kids, and one with just a parent. The kids jump from one car to the next, some other items usually accompany them, and both cars are off in opposite directions.

You watch us. I've seen you. You stare. Sometimes you point. Sometimes you frown, or shake your head. But the others that pull up a few spots away - they don't do that. Sometimes they smile - knowingly, kindly. Sometimes they just nod. We both know why the other one's there. And we both know that you're watching.

Your watching used to bother me. It used to make me feel worse. It doesn't anymore. Because I realize that you don't understand. You may never understand. And, honestly, I hope you never have to. 

This routine isn't fun. But it's life for a lot of people. The munchkins know the routine very well. They don't complain about it. They get excited. It's what they DO. It's what they - in their minds - have always done. And we make it work.

Next time you see one of us, maybe don't stare. Don't point, or frown or shake your head. It may not be me benefitting from your response - or lack of it. But someone will. And that's a start. We're all just doing our best in this world. Similar routines or not.