Here's a brilliant idea.
Take a bunch of kids, 60
ought to do it, and squash them into a smelly diesel bus that last saw a
cleaning crew in 1958. Then, drive to some obscure educational location such as
"The Largest Ball of Yarn in the World" – it doesn't matter as long
as it has a plaque and horrid weather. Now put yourself on that bus and make it
a two-hour trip, minimum, each way. Sit between a child who looks to be
violently ill at any moment and another kid who showed up massively
over-stimulated on breakfast cereal.
If you're one of the millions
of parents who has been sentenced, I mean have been granted, the
"privilege" of knowing what I am talking about, you are saying,
"Gee, it sounds like he's been on an elementary school field trip."
School field trips are a
right of passage in school – similar to third class on the HMS Titanic and
parents are, thoughtfully, invited to participate. If you are new to our
"bonding" session, let the following set of definitions serve as a
guide:
THE NOTICE. The critically
important slip of paper from the teacher describing the timing, destination and
logistics of the trip. Your child will also be entrusted with a "parental
permission slip". Your child will misplace both pieces of paper.
RULES. There are two types of
rules. The first, known as "field trip rules" are handed out by the
teacher before leaving. Experienced field-trippers know that these rules are
optional, namely as following them might lead to "learning" and
therefore "not having a good time". The second set of rules, given
verbally from a bus driver who looks to be recently released from a mental
ward, is not optional.
BUS RIDE: You will be able to
tell if the bus trip will be good or bad by observing how the teacher is
traveling. If the teacher is on your bus, it will be a good trip. If the
teacher driver his or her own vehicle,
it is a bad omen. If the teacher refused to board the bus and is taken away
laughing hysterically, open the window and jump.
DISCIPLINE: At some random
point, usually just after you leave, the children will begin
"misbehaving". While I suggest firm disciplinary action such as the
unrestricted use of cattle prods, I sternly object to attempts to divert the
children's attention with a round of "Row, row, row your boat". Think
about it for a second. Now think about
it for next two hours. Think about how happy the other parents will feel
launching your carcass from the emergency exit.
ARRIVAL: Arriving at the
"thoroughly" interesting national park/monument/bathroom, you may be
surprised by the whining, crying and general carrying on after disembarking
from the bus. Eventually the teachers gain some composure and the trip may
continue.
GROUP: This is a collection
of children you are responsible for. If they look eerily like a "prison
work gang", it is because they are eerily like a "prison work
gang", only without decent uniforms.
ITINERARY: This is a list,
given by the teacher, of what each group is supposed to do and is therefore
optional. Remember the teacher was the one who gave you that worthless set of
rules before leaving. Are you catching a pattern here?
LUNCH: Take time during lunch
to resort the kids in your group. Did Timmy eat a tuna fish sandwich and onion
chips? Yes? Ok, change him out for Suzy who ate plain bread and an apple.
HOMEWARD: Check your group.
If any appear greener than they did on the trip down, hitchhike. You may even
feel like sitting, not with the kids, but with another adult now. Just be wary
that the driver usually doesn't like it if you sit in his lap.
THE END: It is impolite to
climb over everyone in front of you, burst from the bus and begin kissing the
ground while screaming "It's over, it’s over!" Wait until the bus
stops.
So there you have it, a few
suggestions to the parental field tripper. Next week, we'll deal with another
great event in your life, surviving the "orchestra/band/choir
performance".