My son is in kindergarten. With 29 other boys. I volunteered to chaperone their field trip to an apple orchard last week. Below is a list of things we parent chaperones said during the five-hour excursion...
Sit down. On your bottom.
Sit. Down.
Hands to yourself.
Face forward, guys.
No head-butting the seat in front of you.
No punching the seat in front of you.
No kicking the seat in front of you.
We've been driving for about 20 minutes. Funny, it feels like hours to me.
Oh, we don't kiss our friends at school.
We don't kiss our friends on a field trip, either.
Please save the kisses for home.
Don't lay on him, please. I know you're not asleep. Because you're talking to me, that's how I know.
I wonder if they sell spiked apple cider at this orchard. I hope so.
Put down the hay.
Stop throwing the hay.
Keep. Your. Hands. Out. Of. The. Hay.
Now you have hay in your eyes? Oh, dear. That hurts, doesn't it? Have you ever heard of karma?
Try to cough into your arm. No, not into my arm. Into your arm.
Here, honey, I have a tissue. You can use it to wipe your... oh, OK. So you wiped it on your shoulder instead. Very good.
You may pick six apples.
Nope. You can't pick 10 apples.
No, you cannot pick 20 apples. Because you can pick six apples.
Six apples! Lalalalalalalalalalala! What's that? I can't hear you asking for more apples! Lalalalalalalalalala!
Please don't pick an apple off the tree and then throw it on the ground.
You didn't "drop it." I watched you throw it. Yes, I did. Yes, I did. Oh. Yes. I. Did.
Please stop kicking apples.
Ouch! I said please stop kicking apples.
Look at my face. If you kick another apple at me, I'm telling your parents. How do you like them apples?
You have to poop? Awesome.
When I said we're not going to do face painting today, that didn't mean you should put your hands into the ash from last night's bonfire and finger paint your face black.
Please don't hit him.
Please don't hit me.
Please don't zip up someone else's jacket... see? Now his lips are caught in the zipper.
Please get out from under the seat of the bus. We're driving on the highway. No, you didn't "fall off" the seat. Nice try.
Don't lick the seat.
Don't lick the boy next to you.
Don't lick the floor of the bus. Because your tongue may fall off. That's why.
Put your pants on, boys. Put them on now. This is a school bus. Put your pants on. Actually, it's not funny.
Kindergarten boys, listen up! Please do not let any part of your body touch any part of anyone else's body. Got it?
Do I believe in Jesus Christ? I certainly will if I make it off this bus in one piece.
Whatever they are paying these teachers, it's not enough. They deserve a raise. Immediately.