Going to the bus stop is one of those rarely mentioned moments in my day. Without much forethought, I make sure Adam is ready to catch the bus. From kindergarten to second grade our bus stop was across the street and down one house at an older student's house. Taylor and her mom would greet us and we'd gab about the day before or maybe what's going on in our lives. Back then it was no small task for me to be at the bus stop. I was taking care of my niece, who is 5 months younger than Elise. On a typical morning I'd have to shuffle the girls twin stroller in tow since my niece wasn't old enough to walk--and Elise was old enough to get into mischief. Our old dog Boo would accompany us, too. He looked forward to frollicking in our neighbor's yard, and ultimately, usually leaving a little surprise for me to clean up.
Once Taylor aged out of elementary school our bus stop was moved to the house across the street. No longer caring for Paige and our old dog no longer with us, it was back to just the three of us each morning. Occasionally we would be surprised by a memorable moment at the bus stop. One fell on a bright, windy morning following a steady thunderstorm all night. About half way to the bus stop a bird pooped on Adam's head. Good aim, little birdy! We chuckled as I ran back to the house so I could remove the evidence before the bus arrived. The only other memorable moment was late in the spring of last school year. We found a giant, dead raccoon waiting for us at our usual bus stop. Thankfully, the city took pity on us and had the raccoon removed from the sidewalk in less than 30 minutes time.
Yesterday, however, will be the most memorable morning thus far. Crossing the street, I notice a clear, baseball sized object in the grass. Upon closer inspection, it appears blood speckled and something is encased inside. Intrigued, and just a little grossed out for lack of a better term, I gently kicked the ball on the other side to see what I could determine. The side that had been hidden in the grass was now staring up at me--and frankly, made the little hairs on the back of my neck raise. Whatever this thing was supposed to be certainly did not belong at our bus stop. By now, I've made the kids have a closer look, and they weren't too happy about it either. Upon close inspection, all I can really tell is that by all accounts it looks like an animal inside, connected by an umbilical-like blood source. Even looked like it had crab legs projecting from underneath the sheath. Disgusting! I was all too happy to see the bus arrive so I can cross the street and be away from it. Don't get me wrong. I don't consider myself a squeamish female. I can handle rodents and spiders and insects. Not a problem. This little ball-like alien--a problem!! My first instinct was to call the city again to remove it. But, what what exactly do I tell them, and wouldn't they tell me just to dispose of it myself. My second reaction was to call my husband. Tony is intelligent, especially about nature and animals so I assumed he might know what it is by my description. Upon questioning, he is really perplexed and asked for pictures.
To make a long story shorter, without my knowledge, unable to identify it, Tony contacts the Zoo via e-mail to send them the photographs while I am calling the science laboratory at the Zoo myself. My reason for contacting them was two-fold. First, I wanted to know what the hell this thing was and secondly, I thought they may take an interest in investigating or dissecting it. A woman named Kim asks me to send her the pictures after I explain the object. She looks at the photos and says that no one in the lab can identify it, but agrees whatever it is, it's intriguing and gross!!
Basically, at the end of the day I have no answers from the Zoo despite pictures traveling system-wide, and quite frankly, I didn't want to see it waiting for us at the bus stop. This image was replaying in my mind over and over. I hadn't been so "freaked out" by anything like this in a very long time. My husband eagerly takes matters into his own hands upon arriving home. Final verdict, you ask? A rubber ball. A disgusting child's halloween-like rubber ball. All that for a stupid, scary play thing. If you ask me, whomever created it in the first place should be shot. Really.
Had I been there as a kid, I would have figured out what that thing was in as much time as took me to pick it up and throw it. (I would have smelled it first.)
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