Carpooling

My husband and I started carpooling to work together when we worked in the same building. It also helped that gas was over $4.00 a gallon at the time. Once gas dropped back down to a semi reasonable price, we continued to carpool. Now we work in different buildings but we still carpool. I drop him off, then I drop our son off at day school and then I go to work. Some of our friends think it is sweet. Some of our friends think it is weird.

I love carpooling. We have some of our best conversations in the car. In the mornings, we are all business at the house. We are trying to get the three of us out the door with all our clothes on, two of the same shoes on the right set of feet, and all the stuff in the car (not on top of the car). It is a wonderful, mostly relaxing time for the family to talk about what is going to be happening during the day (on the way to work) and what happened (on the way home from work). We often have dinner planned out before we get home so there is no staring blankly inside the pantry or refrigerator.

But now my son thinks that Mommy stays in the car all day – from the time I drop him off to the time I pick him up. My mom asked Will the other day what happened during his day. He told her that we dropped Daddy off at work and saw boxcars (my husband works next to an industrial park that uses boxcars for tranport). Then my mom asked him if Mommy when to work. And he said “No, Mommy’s car.” So apparently he thinks that once I drop him off at school, I just get in my car and stay there until I come and pick him up from school. Funny as a child’s mind works.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s