Monday, October 17, 2011

First Field Trip, II

Interesting fact about me: when I volunteer to chaperone field trips I always get paired up with the slightly more difficult children. You know those ones. They run around, never stop talking, wander off, spill their lunch, eat their own boogers, try to ride the polar bear, require stitches.... or whatever. If it's a problem in the classroom, I will be required to follow it around a museum, a zoo, or the botanical gardens. Mark. My. Words.

During Mason's first learning adventure afield I acquired another badge of chaperoning glory. Amongst the children in my car and then chaperone group was a child who's name is difficult to pronounce and makes me uncomfortable to shout across crowds. In fact, the name starts with a D and rhymes with whoosh. And she was a runner. I wanted to stab myself in the eye.

That's when the teacher also realized that somewhere between the parking lot, the restrooms, and the pumpkin field she dropped the bag that had all the snacks, the first-aid kit, and all the emergency response permission slips. Here's what I know, the band-aids and latex gloves were not missed.

It's moments like these that I take a step back, look through the lens of my camera, and think, "I volunteered." I SO volunteered. I was like the first mom on the list. I always am. Why? It's not because I like stumbling over a name like, well, you know, the one that rhymes with cartouche. It's because I love watching my sons fit into their classes. I want to know what they think about the bees (a little nervous you'll see in the above photo). And all romance aside, I like to see teachers think on their feet.

This is Mason interacting with the little girl who has the hard to pronounce name. He calls her the bully. Can you tell by his face how he feels about her?

There is a fascinating field trip trend that I do not understand. The school (and this wasn't the only one) requires the children on the field trip to wear the same shirt and a bandana. But here's what I don't understand, when you are looking for a lost child, you look for unique attributes. If I'm helping you look and I don't know the child and you say, he's wearing a white shirt with an eagle on the front and all I see is a sea of white shirts I'm not a very effective searcher. Besides, Mason HATED the bandana.

1 comment:

African Kelli said...

you were in charge of a kid named douche. You were set up for failure! Or at least candid camera!
And your kid was still the cutest.