Lucky us (although I didn't really think we were so lucky in this regard) ended up being neighbors to the bus driver of the local charter school; because we're neighbors, and because we live out in the middle of a friggen canyon, the mini school bus ended up being parked right across the street. For every night. For every weekend. For every day.
Because of the every night, every weekend, every day part, Leone took a liking to the school bus thing. So much so that he ended up having a school busapalooza for his second birthday.
|Tesoro made wall decorations! I heart Tesoro!|
|I bought a donut! I heart little boys with donuts!|
Leone, no matter how much his papa talked with him about it, refused to accept the fact that last night was his final farewell. To one of his bestest friends in the whole world. His BFF, if you are so inclined. His BBFF. His BFFB.
This morning, as we walked down the stairs, he immediately leans forward to the window in order to take a peek: "BUuuuu.... Bus? No bus? Bus? No bus? No bus? No bus?"
Holy crap. A broken record. In our house. With a wee broken heart.
Seriously. It was the only thing he could talk about during his breakfast. The only two words he could muster. With a frown. With sad eyes. With a voice that at times reached despair.
Poor little Leone. Poor mini school bus.
Sad, sad, sad.