2017/2018
Vol. 13

The No Good Terrible Very Bad Day

1981; Deerfield, Michigan, USA

When my mom was in kindergarten, she rode the school bus home every day. (When my mom was younger, she was really, really shy.) Her house was the farthest away from the school. Her normal bus driver was really nice, but one day the normal driver was sick and there was a substitute bus driver.

One by one, all the kids got dropped off the bus, including my mom’s best friend, Heather. Then my mom started to worry. When the substitute bus driver got to my mom’s house, she just drove by — Vroom! The bus went straight past her house — it didn’t slow down, not even a bit! My mom was petrified! She kept as quiet as possible, and huddled in the corner of her seat.

The bus driver drove back to school, got off the bus, and came back with a broom to clean the bus. Swish, swash. Side to side the broom went. The bus driver looked from seat to seat, checking for trash. When the bus driver got to the very last seat, she saw a little kindergartner huddled in the seat. And just like any bus driver should do when they see a kid on the bus, she screamed. Then my mom uncurled herself and started screaming, too!

The bus driver calmed herself and asked my mom in a strict voice, “Why are you still on the bus, little missy?”

My mom said squeakily, “You passed my house.”

The bus driver was startled, so she took my mom to the school office and told the secretary, “This girl got left on the school bus. Can we call her mom?”

So they called my mom’s mom, but she did not hear the phone because she was outside waiting for the bus and the phone was inside. The secretary called one more time, and my mom’s mom still did not pick up. My mom was trying so hard not to cry. Nobody wants to cry in front of an adult, unless it’s their parents.

Just then the janitor, Mr. Mueller, went into the office. The janitor’s kid was in the same class as my mom. He boldly said, “Let’s call your mom one more time, and if she doesn’t answer, then I will take you home in my truck.” They called my grandma one more time, and sadly she didn’t pick up. My mom tentatively went home in the janitor’s truck.

When my mom finally got home, she ran to her mom, told her what had happened, and burst into tears. Mr. Mueller and my grandma exchanged their thank-yous, and the janitor departed.

After my mom stopped crying, her mom said, “You should write a story about this event, while I cook you some chicken and stars soup.”

My mom did, and she drew a school bus on the front of the book, and titled it The No Good Terrible Very Bad Day. My mom still has that book to remind her that writing stories always makes her feel better.

Taylor Lim; Missouri, USA

Illustrator: Mya Gray; Missouri, USA

This copyrighted story may be copied and/or printed for limited classroom or personal use. To reprint this story in an article about The Grannie Annie, please contact The Grannie Annie Family Story Celebration for permission.

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