Kiss me, on the bus
I chaperoned Boy-child’s field trip this morning to a local museum. I wanted to be able to capture the sights, the sounds, the smells of this outing, and post about it. However, doing that would take too long…even if I videotaped it for you, the trip wouldn’t be the same. But I want to share with you these thoughts:
1) Chaperoning a field trip with young sentient beings is a lot like the sheepdogs in Babe, trying to rustle up the herd. You run around, make noise, and try to keep them from running amok and/or hurting themselves. I had the Jeebus pose for most of the trip, arms out, gently guiding, my head bowed, muttering, “Forgive them, for they know not what they do.” I also pulled out all my distraction tools to keep the bus ride from becoming a One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest sort of uprising. “So, Arthur, you playing soccer this year? Cat killing? You’re into cat killing now? So…uh…how do you like it?”
2) If you took ass, and soaked that ass in feet, and fed that ass limburger cheese and old rotten garlic, rolled it in cow manure, stewed it a while with old cabbage, and sprinkled it with a smattering of mud and dead animal matter, you would get the stench that swirled around inside our bus. It was bad. I mean. BAD. Most of the girls covered their faces with their jackets just so they could breath. The boys, of course, wanted to roll in it.
3) Whenever you get pre-adolescent boys together, they will take great glee in finding dangerous things. An uproar when one of the boys yelled out, “Hey, Carl, we’re on a HIGHWAY with NO SEATBELTS ON! AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!” There’s not enough shushing in the world to calm that. Not. Enough.