When I was a child my parents lived for some years in France, and we lived in a village where the school bus stopped at the bottom of the hill. One day, when I was 7 and coming home from school, I met a nice village lad, and when we got off the bus, we started chatting about this and that; I went to his house, and about 3 hours passed by. Then I went home up the hill, realizing belatedly that I was in big trouble. When I got there, I said to my panic-stricken mother -- "Oh, the bus broke down, the tires burst." Pulled me to her bosom, O.K., made it!! Next day, my father waited for the bus with me (my mother had shopping to do), the bus came. My father said to the driver, in his execrable French: "Comment allez-vouse avec cette bus?" -- "Ca va", was the reply. "Great" said my father, "get on". O.K. made it, luck is on my side!!! Later that day, my mother came to the school to bring me my lunch. We were walking down the hall, and THE BUS DRIVER walked past. My mother immediately got up, and in her impeccable French commiserated with him about the terrible bus breakdown. Curses. Karma, Nemesis, Doom.
yours, Peter T.