Off Campus

I remember a handful of field trips from my ever-distancing youth. There were several visits to the natural history museum in junior high, which just happened to have an early version of an IMAX theatre, and I suspect that as much as they thought the students would geek out over a giant movie screen (advertised as potentially nausea-inducing, a big thumbs up for 13 year old boys), the teachers probably saw an opportunity for a 90 minute nap. Inexplicably, we got to go to the zoo. Sophomore year. Of course, the more memorable zoo excursion was a bit earlier in my academic career, marked by very fidgety animals that signaled the oncoming tornado that I vividly recall watching from the backseat of our station wagon as Mom raced me home before throwing my headlong into the bathtub and covering me with every pillow in the house. And there was the time we went to the bus wash. Yeah, I didn’t get that one even then.

But now, I can say I’ve been on both sides. I got to experience my first field trip from the chaperon perspective. What it lacks in wonder now as an adult is quickly offset with the ability to make a side trip to Starbucks before you start the magical, educational experience. I highly recommend this activity. And perhaps a swing by happy hour on the way home, if you’re so inclined, especially if that one little kid just sat on your last nerve the entire day and managed to smear peanut butter down your shirt.

Other things I learned:

If you can avoid driving, do. And by that, I don’t mean ride along in the bus (oh no no no no no). You won’t have to explain the detritus in your backseat (which we all have but still feel the need to apologize for), and you can kick back to go along for the ride when the driver inevitably gets lost.

Docents are either very, very excited about their jobs or couldn’t care less.

There’s always That One Kid (see above, peanut butter). Hopefully, it’s not yours. But you’ll get ample opportunity to find out.

Herding small children is like trying to get spilled Jello back into the container.

Lunch at a playground is essential for burning off all the energy the darling children have extracted from the chaperones.

Speaking of lunch, you get the see what all the other parents send for their kids to eat. There weren’t exactly a plethora of organic bean sprout gluten free sandwiches is what I’m saying.

There are always a handful of kids whose folks forgot to send their lunches in disposable sacks. A supply of leftover grocery bags or extra paper sacks will come in quite handy so no one’s beloved Tinkerbell lunchbox gets left behind.

The younger the children, the higher the probability that most of them will fall asleep on the ride back.

Even if all you do is slowly walk around a building or outside looking at things, you will be completely exhausted before the day is over.

Always bring extra band aids, tissues, drinks, snacks, change, and hand sanitizer. You will be the favorite parent there.

Teachers are truly angels on earth for dealing with your children with more patience than the Pope. Bring them some of that Starbucks you stopped for earlier because they not only need it, they deserve it.

Thanks to my own parents who took care of Sabrina so that I could be a part of all this. Also, thanks to all allergy medications for helping more than a few (teachers included) make it through a morning at the apple orchard without their noses falling off. So, who’s up for the zoo in April? I promise not to bring the tornado.