Things you hear on the bus

TheBoy started big-boy school this week -- actually it's just a different Spanish immersion pre-school, but let's not tell him that -- and as part of the daily routine, he and I go downtown together each morning on the bus. It's a treat for both of us, especially since he became very clingy toward Judybat when she went back to work. And it's seemed to coincide with a nice burst of development in his conversational skills.

For example ... On the first day of school, he cried when I tried to leave him. Yesterday, I asked him as we rode whether he was going to be a big boy when I dropped him off. His answer: "Yes, but I'm going to be a little sad for a minute." And he was: We walked in, I put him down, and he proceeded to toddle over to a tiger-shaped chair, put his head down and mope until I left.

Not all of our conversations are sweet, however. Yesterday, he also wanted to know what would happen if you cut off someone's ear. Would it bleed? Yes, Mr. Van Gogh, it probably would. "I can feel my blood," he said. What does it feel like? "Red bubbles. Haha! Funny!" Um, OK.

Today, the other passengers got an even bigger treat. Junior wanted to know -- in a voice that carried up and down the bus -- just what you would do if you had neither a penis nor a "bagina." I told him I thought that would make it pretty hard to pee, for lack of a better response.

Mass transit in Portland is such a bargain. For $1.65, you get easy transportation and a show.