I’m chaperoning the 8th grade class trip to Washington DC. I’m not the only chaperone, obviously, but I have wondered on more than one occasion, what was I thinking when I agreed to do this. It probably had something to do with the fact I’m a control freak and couldn’t let Noodge 1 go off to another state without the supervision of his overprotective, Italian mother. We’re nothing if not thorough. And we think we’re way more thorough about watching our children then all the other mothers combined. (I will say this. I’m way more progressive than my mother. She didn’t even let me go on the 8th grade Washington DC trip. Not that I remember that or anything.) Do you know any Italian mothers? Just saying.
I’m one of those people who get sick in a moving car and worse on a bus. I have a whole regimen I undergo just to avoid the need to vomit. The most important being, I must have a full stomach. Don’t ask me why, but after years of experience, this fact proves to be true. Since we have to be at the school by 6 am I’m wondering what the heck I’m going to eat before the trip even begins. I could pick up something for the ride, but I live in the country. There’s nothing between us and the school except a few farms. A tomato plant isn’t going to cut it. But I will have snacks because I need to eat every two hours like an infant. Yes, I’m high maintenance. Refer to paragraph one where I mention I’m Italian.
My roommate on this trip is a friend whose daughter is in Noodge’s grade. I made this friendship all by myself without the aide of my children or their presence in a classroom. Who knew I still had those skills? I would’ve enjoyed my friend’s conversation for the bus ride down and back. We weren’t assigned to the same bus. Really? I want to say. Who planned this out? Didn’t they notice who was rooming together? They did, in fact, ask us for this information. Why is she on a different bus than I am? Hmm…? I’ll wait. Still waiting. No answer. Figures. I hope the other parents on my bus like me.
It’s too late to back out now and what would Noodge 1 think if I suddenly decided to jump ship? Will it be something he’ll store away in the “My mother’s out of her mind” cabinet? I’m sure it’s already full. Remember paragraph one. And what about Noodge 2? In two years it will be her turn. How can I say no to that trip without hearing, “You like him better.”
I should’ve thought this whole chaperoning thing through. That will teach me to be an overbearing, controlling, mother. Or not.