After the bell: chaos, car lines and … crabs?

There’s an episode of Doctor Who where people spend their entire lives sitting in traffic. They raise their families in their cars on the freeway, never seeing the sun or stepping outside for fear of the thick plumes of toxic exhaust fumes.

Martha Jones, a companion of The Doctor, is kidnapped so her captor’s car can be eligible for the “express lane” below (you must have three passengers to qualify). But of course, in the Doctor Who universe, there’s always a twist. By the end of the episode Martha is rescued, but you learn there is no express lane, the exits are all closed. Oh, and there’s giant crab things that will eat you — but that’s beside the point.

Basically, you never get to where you’re going. You just exist in traffic, endlessly circling.

That’s how I feel every time I pick my kids up from school.

The car line at my sons’ elementary school is torture. Sheer, absolute, unabiding torture.

To their credit, the teachers and principal have the car line down to a science. They’re efficient, streamlined and they have it moving like the well-oiled machine that it is. This isn’t a knock on them — if anything, I’m kicking myself.

Because I’m the one who signed them up as car riders. It’s my own fault.

Why, why, why didn’t I sign the boys up to take the bus? What was I thinking? I’m sure I must have had a good reason at the time but — whatever it was — I was wrong. No reason is worth this.

When I was a kid — even in elementary school — once the bell rang, you were free. Kids streamed out the doors in all directions and headed home. Everyone I knew rode the bus and there was no such thing as a “car line.” In fact, if someone was picking you up, it was because you had a doctor’s appointment or maybe a gymnastics class or something — certainly not to “go home” — that’s what the bus was for.

Had after school plans at a friend’s house? No problem, just hop on their bus and tag along.

It was chaos. And yet, we survived. Sure, there was the occasional snafu when you got on the wrong bus. (Or worse, when you dawdled too long in the hallway and missed your bus entirely!) But on the whole, the system — or lack thereof — worked.

Alas, times have changed …

School lets out at 2:25 p.m. but cars begin to line up just after one. And then you sit. And sit. And sit. At least, that’s what I did. The first week back I dutifully lined up in my Subaru right around 1:30 — a full hour before dismissal — so when they started releasing kids mine hopefully wouldn’t have to wait too long.

Let me tell you, I got over that real fast.

Starting the second week, I experimented a bit with times. For instance, if you showed up at 1:30, you’d have to wait an hour but it would only be a few minutes once the line started moving because you were so close to the front.

If you showed up at 2 p.m., you’d be backed up almost to the road and you’d still have to wait 30 minutes before the line even started moving. Once it did, it would probably take you another 20 mins. of creeping before you even made it to the front of the school. Overall time was shorter, but not by much.

With a little practice, I found my magic hour: 2:45 p.m.

By swooping in a good 20 minutes “late” I find myself right on time. Sure, I’m at the end of the car line, but I’m well off the road and the line’s moving pretty smoothly by then. Also, I’m under the 3 p.m. deadline imposed by the school. Yesterday, I was in and out (kids in tow) in seven minutes. Bam.

Of course, my boys probably aren’t too happy they have to sit there for an extra 20 minutes while all the other kids get called ahead of them, but, you know, whatever. They’re kids, they’ll get over it. If them sitting for 20 minutes means I don’t have to sit and go crazy for an hour…then they can just take one for the team.

After all, there is no express lane in the car line and all the exits are closed. You just exist in traffic, endlessly circling…

Watch out for the giant crab things.