Today I fulfilled a lifelong dream of chaperoning my kid's field trip. Laugh all you want, but ever since Mrs. Sager took our second grade class to OMSI, and my dad let me and another kid kind of wander off from the group (he didn't just send us off on our own, he was watching us), I've wanted to be the cool parent on the field trip. Of course, I'm pretty sure Mrs. Sager reamed my dad - partly because the other kid that went on this rogue excursion with me was her daughter - and it probably wasn't the best experience for him. But nevermind the bad stuff, I was convinced that this trip was going to be awesome.
And awesome it was. Kindergarten is the best. These kids are hilarious. Also, kindergarten teachers deserve their own holiday, because the ability to command attention from 28 five and six year olds is a Herculean task if there ever was one. Mrs. Weldon is awesome....she's been a kindergarten teacher for 25 years - the patience of this woman is mind boggling.
The fun started during roll call, when she told the kids to call out "bus!" instead of "here!" because we were going on the field trip. The kids are quiet, but much in the same way a 35,000 seat baseball stadium is "quiet" in between innings. Sure nobody is cheering, but there's that background cacophony that's constant. I couldn't hear half the kids call out "bus," but she heard every one. Of course she had to stop because one of the kids said another kid punched him in the stomach. She asked Kid A why he punched Kid B, and Kid A says "because he punched me first!" "Kid A, is that true?" "Well, yeah!"
So then we load on to the bus and head out to the pumpkin patch. I'm assigned two children, one of which is Jonah, thankfully. At least one of them will potentially listen to me. We get on the bus, and I'm sitting next to Jonah and this other kid, who is totally awesome, but totally hyper. He can't sit still in his seat, he's talking constantly, and his favorite word is "brainfart." A sample conversation:
Kid: "hey, Jonah's dad, did you know what it's called when you forget something?"
Me: "Nope."
Kid: "A brainfart! (laughter from both Jonah and him.)
Me: "Well, that's ridiculous."
Kid: "You know what else?"
Me: "What?"
Kid: (makes fart noise) I forgot! Just had another brainfart!"
Jonah: "You should put your hood up, that will keep the brainfarts in!"
And on and on it went. These kids are super-hyper, but boy do they respect Mrs. Weldon. She made sure they got the message that the kids were supposed to be quiet when the bus went over railroad tracks, because as soon as the bus driver turned on the interior lights (the signal that a railroad crossing was coming up) these kids went silent and didn't say a single word until the lights turned off. I was impressed.
At the patch, It turned into cat-herding at its finest. You try keeping two five year olds together in a pumpkin patch sometime. Both Jonah and my other assigned youngster were determined to find the perfect pumpkin. So much so, in fact, that they were the last two kids to claim a pumpkin. My favorite reason for leaving a pumpkin behind was that it was "dirty." I will admit though, they both decided on pretty fantastic pumpkins.
On the hay ride, disaster struck when one girl dropped her hat off the back. The farmer was merrily driving his tractor, which had an enclosed cab, and the humor of 28 kids and a handful of parents waving frantically at the back of this guy's head was something to see. The little girl was devastated and convinced she would never see her hat again. Finally, farmer guy turns around and sees us waving, and one of the other chaperone dads is off to rescue the hat. Crisis averted.
After everyone staked claim to the "best pumpkin EVER!" it was time to play on the hay pyramid, slides, mazes, hay forts and other harvest festival activities. It was at this point that every chaperone gave up monitoring their individual kids and just scanned an area for kids climbing on hay bales they shouldn't be, or ushering kids off to the portapotties. Of course, at one point I'm talking to a chaperone mom and I hear Mrs. Weldon yell at the kid I'm responsible for to stop climbing up the slide. A short time later, Jonah and one of his buddies are racing to the hay fort, and Jonah sort of cuts the other kid off and he falls to the ground crying. Jonah just looks at him, wondering why he's not getting up, as that kid's chaperone runs to his aid like he's a fallen soldier. This chaperoning is serious business. She was super good with him and had him back playing in no time. I spent the rest of the hour avoiding Mrs. Weldon, since I'm pretty sure I was the only chaperone to have both his kids run afoul of the rules of the field trip.
The other thing that was evident is that my son is adored by his entire class. This might sound like bragging, but that is what I observed. He's the Justin Timberlake of North Albany Elementary's kindergarten class - boys and girls alike want to be around him. Jonah seems oblivious to his stature, not acting arrogant or haughty at all - something I'm very thankful for. When we showed up in the morning, it seemed like every kid came over to say "Hi Jonah!" something I didn't observe with the other children. Even when we dropped Jocelyn off at preschool, the other kids saw Jonah and it caused a minor issue as kids had to line up to high five Jonah before he left for preschool. On the bus, the two girls across the aisle from us would lean over every few minutes and say "Hi Jooooonah!" and he'd casually wave back and say "hi girls." One girl in particular followed him everywhere, even leaning her head on his shoulder during the group picture on the hay pyramid. Jonah seemed completely at ease with all of it, making we worried for what Rachel and I are in for in about ten years.
In all, I had a blast on this trip, and I can't wait for my next chance to chaperone - unless of course it's during a school dance. I want no part of the dances.
