Capacious: Mrs. Capacious? Do You Like Field Trips?

Last week, there were two field trips. The American Museum of Natural History trip with the fifth graders on Monday was a bit trying as our school bus driver didn't really know where he was going and we spent five long hours on the dilapidated school bus in order to spend two short hours cruising through the museum at top speed (that's how kids like it so it was fine with them). A pigeon pooped on Ty during lunch. The boys in my group were compatible and well-behaved apart from some spirited light saber fighting with rolled up pieces of paper.

On Friday, the second graders went to the aquarium. Again, there were three boys under my chaperonage. One was my kid. Then there was Mr. Speedy and Mr. Worry.

Mr. Speedy enjoyed disappearing into crowds of little children, managing to kick or hit or insult at least one of them in the process. Mr. Speedy was busy climbing up the stairs and opening the door to the exit of the ride we did not pay to attend! Mr. Speedy wanted candy from the vending machine! Mr. Speedy wanted coins to spin down the spinny thing! Mr. Speedy was bored! But most of all, Mr. Speedy was speedy. He's outside, he's on the bleachers, he's leaning against the fence over the water. He is happy. I am infuriated when another chaperone gets him taken away from me (without talking to me first) because he hit someone in her group (yeah, and your rotten kid hit him first, just so you know). I take him back from the grateful teacher, with a scowl in the chaperone's direction. We avoid them the rest of the day.

Mr. Worry is very smart. He enjoys talking to grownups more than he does to children. On the trip to the aquarium, Mr. Worry walked his fingers up my arm, pretending his fingers were a frog. I didn't mind this the first hundred times, but then the other kids started to do it too and then I had that feeling from when the kids were little and clingy and all over me all the time and what I really wanted was to not be TOUCHED anymore. Mr. Worry is very concerned about cleanliness. He does not like that his sweatshirt sleeve is wet from touching the manta rays and carries a soggy tissue around for the rest of the day, desperately wiping it. When he finally agrees to take his sweatshirt off (despite the heat), he will not allow me to carry it. He does not want food from a vending machine. He is afraid when someone goes into the restroom that she might never come out again. He asks what time it is and what time are we supposed to meet for the bus, what time is it now, are we late, maybe we should go sit by the bus, I know it's only 10:00 and we're not meeting until 12:30 but maybe it's late, what time is it now? What time is it? Mr. Worry was happy when we were back on the bus.

My kid wanted to sit in the back on the way home, thus completely messing up the "sit in the seat you came in" policy. All the insane, out-of-control kids crowded around us. Mr. Worry did not want to sit in the back of the bus but I told him he could sit with me despite vowing that he would not sit next to me on the way back so my head could empty itself a little bit. He hit me with the end of his seatbelt strap over and over. "What are you doing, Mr. Worry?" "It's a game called 'Hit Mrs. Capacious On The Leg.'" "Please stop." He hit me on the arm with the seatbelt strap. "Mr. Worry. Stop." "It's a new game called, 'Hit Mrs. Capacious on the Arm.'" The kids around us threw a lunchbox back and forth, got each other in head locks, fell into the aisle, gave each other noogies, threw bits of paper and plastic out the window, while I desperately tried to keep some sort of order. The other chaperones and teachers on the bus all sat in the front, because they are smart. Every once in a while, one of them would turn around and say, "Do I have to come back there?" I would nod frantically, "Yes, yes, come back here!" but they would gaze vacantly into space as though I did not exist and slide back around to face the quiet, orderly front of the bus, leaving me with the insane children. The worst kid actually had BOTH of his parents on the bus but did they ever turn around, even once? No, sir, they did not. They knew what they were missing. They are not dummies.

One kid's lunchbox was torn to shreds and he held it up, yelling, "LOOK! LOOK! LOOK!" for about an hour, while a little girl intoned, "Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it...." over and over and over again, loudly. The only thing that made her stop doing that was when she noticed a bad word written on the seat in front of her. She drew it to the boys' attention and they all crowded up to her seat to look, spelling it loudly and happily. F! U!..." you get the idea. I tried to engage them in conversation for a while, got them all to tell me their favorite colors, etc. but there were just to many of them and I finally told Mr. Worry that I needed to look out the window and be quiet for a while. After about two seconds, he tapped my shoulder, "Mrs. Capacious?" "Yes, Mr. Worry. What is it?" "Do you like wine?" My instinct was to say, "Why? What have you heard?" And then ask him if he had any on him.

Comments

Remember how we took booze with us on the whale watch? Jesus, why didn't we get caught and expelled from school?

It's amazing to me how clingy the kids are. When I go for a 45 minute art class they all turn themselves inside out like puppies for my attention and affection.

Posted by: de | May 28, 2008 at 11:01 AM