It’s been two weeks since I rode a bus full of band students from Minneapolis to Chicago and the pain is beginning to fade. As I caught up on some miscellaneous tasks today, I came across the random notes I made on my iPad during the trip. My iPad and the wi-fi on the bus kept me sane. They gave me something to do, despite the fact that I was fighting for the wi-fi with 40 teens, most of whom were either playing Clash of Clans or streaming Netflix.
An aside: Six of those students are now upstairs prepping for a dance. I’m not sure why they’re all at our home, but I think I might have been voted “least objectionable parent”.
Anyway, here are a few of the thoughts I captured during the 30-odd hours we spent on the bus:
- When you chaperone teens no one wants to sit by you so you score a whole seat.
- This bus could have used some aggressive vacuuming before we boarded.
- I’m going to have to be very careful not to accidentally swear.
- Ick. I wish I hadn’t dropped my coat on the floor.
- Chaperoning teens is a little like being Vice President of the United States – no one really believes you have any power.
- It’s getting pretty ripe in here. I hope none of those smells are me.
- No matter how many times you tell junior high students they cannot eat on the bus, they will eat on the bus. They will ALL eat on the bus. Even if they’re sitting right next to you.
- I would never have guessed I could sleep on a bus on which at least thirty-five people are shouting, but then again, I did fall asleep in that nightclub in San Francisco.
- The $8 popcorn at Navy Pier really is worth $8, and one should not be left alone with it.
- If I’d driven in the opposite direction for this same amount of time without stopping I could be in Montana right now.
- Why is it the only person who left their musical instrument on the bus is my daughter? And she thinks I’m not going to notice?
Someone asked me if I might consider chaperoning again in three years when my oldest son makes the Chicago trip. Despite the fact that he will spend even more time trying to avoid me than my daughter (if that’s even possible) I might be ready by then. I’m guessing, like childbirth, the thought of the pain grows dim over time to be replaced by precious memories.
Umm…let’s see. Precious memories from the trip…