Leanna Kay

There are two words that strike fear into a mother’s heart while simultaneously striking joy into her children’s.

Field Trip.

I recently chaperoned the boys’ field trip to Conner Prairie. Conner Prairie is an outdoor museum where actors pretend to be real residents of a town settled in the 1830s. No matter how hard you try, the pretend settlers will not break out of character. Offer them a Reeces Cup and they’ll act as if they have no idea what one is, even while their taste buds are tingling and the scent of peanut butter is drifting happily through their nostrils. Yet they pretend to be enjoying the gruel that was the favored food of the time.

Visiting Conner Prairie was a rare treat for the kids. Not just because they can taunt the actors with modern candy bars much like one messes with the poor lions at the zoo, but because it’s about a five hour round trip from school. That means there’s no time during the day to sneak in any actual school work.

For parents this equates to hours of bouncing on a school bus with no air conditioning and one hundred screaming kids who know exactly what Reeces Cups are because they had four dozen of them for breakfast. After hours of bouncing with a full bladder screaming for release, a mom can appreciate the meaning of the words “hell on Earth”.

That’s why I drove separately.

My bliss ended the moment I met the bus at Conner Prairie and got my chaperoning assignment. I always get the same handful of kids. I suppose it’s because as a criminal defense attorney, the teachers want me to get to know my future clients. Someday when the young boys have moved from pantsing their classmates to knocking off liquor stores, I’ll be able to fondly reminiscence with them about the day we brought the shopkeeper at Conner Prairie to tears by taunting him with a Milky Way.

But no matter how much the boys tried my patience, I successfully completed my chaperoning duties, returning all kids to the bus in one piece. Because if I didn’t, there would probably have been some sort of punishment awaiting. Something involving a loaded school bus filled with screaming children.

There are two words that strike fear into a mother’s heart while simultaneously striking joy into her children’s.

Field Trip.

I recently chaperoned the boys’ field trip to Conner Prairie. Conner Prairie is an outdoor museum where actors pretend to be real residents of a town settled in the 1830s. No matter how hard you try, the pretend settlers will not break out of character. Offer them a Reeces Cup and they’ll act as if they have no idea what one is, even while their taste buds are tingling and the scent of peanut butter is drifting happily through their nostrils. Yet they pretend to be enjoying the gruel that was the favored food of the time.

Visiting Conner Prairie was a rare treat for the kids. Not just because they can taunt the actors with modern candy bars much like one messes with the poor lions at the zoo, but because it’s about a five hour round trip from school. That means there’s no time during the day to sneak in any actual school work.

For parents this equates to hours of bouncing on a school bus with no air conditioning and one hundred screaming kids who know exactly what Reeces Cups are because they had four dozen of them for breakfast. After hours of bouncing with a full bladder screaming for release, a mom can appreciate the meaning of the words “hell on Earth”.

That’s why I drove separately.

My bliss ended the moment I met the bus at Conner Prairie and got my chaperoning assignment. I always get the same handful of kids. I suppose it’s because as a criminal defense attorney, the teachers want me to get to know my future clients. Someday when the young boys have moved from pantsing their classmates to knocking off liquor stores, I’ll be able to fondly reminiscence with them about the day we brought the shopkeeper at Conner Prairie to tears by taunting him with a Milky Way.

But no matter how much the boys tried my patience, I successfully completed my chaperoning duties, returning all kids to the bus in one piece. Because if I didn’t, there was probably some sort of punishment awaiting. Something involving a loaded school bus filled with screaming children.