Babes and Buses

.....not THOSE kinds of babes, now.

Thank God for the wee ones....the tots and toddlers, who never fail to come through when a certain mass transit professional has had a day of jaywalkers and joyriders test his patience. It doesn't matter what these little ones are doing, either being drug through the uptown by a parent's hand to who knows where or playing in the park on the stone animals or waiting by the crosswalk with the big people in tow for the signal to go.

They see me....well they see my bus.....okay, Hamilton Tours' bus.....and the world stops. Eyes go crazy-round, fingers point my way (not the usual other finger I get from those 18+ years their senior) and mouths go agape. It does not matter to the child if there are more important things like another bite of cheeseburger or crossing a busy intersection. This is a big white bus and it rules their world. At least for 6 or 7 seconds. Those fleeting windows into joy and amazement, no matter how vicarious and trivial, are welcome. At least I have made someone happy.

So what if they can't spell "bus."