Bell: End

I am on the bus with the five-year-old, when she presses the bell.

*DING*

“Don’t do that, we’re not getting off yet.”

*DING*

“Hey, stop it. That will really annoy the driver.”

*DING*

I sigh and cover the bell with my hand.

*DING*

“How did you do that!?”

She points to the bell behind her. I attempt to cover that too, but it is an awkward stance to maintain.

“I can’t hold both bells, so just stop it, or we’ll get off and walk. Okay?”

“Okay.”

*DING*

“Right, we’re walking.”

We trot down the street, buses whizzing by.

“I don’t want to walk”, she protests.

“Nor do I, but I can’t trust you on the bus.”

“You can.”

“I can’t.”

“I won’t press the bell again.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I promise”

“You promise?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

We board the next bus.

“So what shall we have for din-”

*DING*

The Male Nanny