Car Pool

So this morning I decided it would be faster to drop Ben off at camp in the car pool drop-off line, instead of parking and walking him in. Parking and walking him in involves taking him up to the second floor, signing him in, possibly prying him off my leg, going back out to the car, then trying to back out of a parking space in a parking lot swarming with moms, kids, strollers and a disproportionately high number of Lexus SUVs. So using the drop-off line would save a lot of time, right? After all, I wouldn't even have to get out of the car.

Wrong. Let me preface this story by saying that Ben did fine with being dropped off in the car-pool line last summer, so I don't know why he freaked out this time except for it being the first time we did it this year. He got upset as soon as I told him I was going to drop him off instead of walking him in. I figured by the time we got up to the front of the line he'd settle down. He didn't. The last straw was when he saw that the counselor manning our drop-off spot was a guy. "I don't want that boy to take me out! I don't want that boy to take me out!" he yelled. Then he refused to unbuckle his car seat, and tried to prevent me from reaching back and unbuckling him. I had to get out of the car (thus defeating half the purpose of being in the car pool line in the first place) and go around and pry his fingers off the seat belt so I could unbuckle it. Then he tried to make a break for it, diving behind the driver's seat. I had to grab him and haul him bodily from the car, while he kicked and screamed. To make matters worse, we were at the front of the car pool line, so while this was going on we were holding up the whole line (all of their children were retrieved without incident I am sure).

Anyway the poor counselor took one look at my sobbing son and backed away with his hands in the air. "I'm not taking him," he said. Thanks, man. You're a real help. Fortunately the camp director had spotted our situation and hurried over to help. She picked up Ben (still kicking and screaming) and tried to console him. She was moderately successful - the kicking stopped anyway - but as I got back into the car after giving him a quick hug I could still hear him crying as she carried him into the building. "We'll call you if he doesn't calm down but I'm sure he'll be fine!" she called over her shoulder.

I was sure too, but what a way to start the day...