Bubble Boys

Dear Kindergarten Families,

Brace yourselves. You have a job. You can do this, and I will take you step-by-step through what really is an easy process. Please sign your name anywhere on this paper. Or, another piece of paper. That is all you need to do...

Well, today I was told by a hippie-in-the-know, that apparantly Mercury this month was in retrograde, there was a full moon, a lunar eclipse, a solar eclipse and an equinox. I happen to think this is merely a reason to own a telescope, but it may have something to do with the fact that some of my kids have resorted to a primal state of being. Either way, today I experienced:

The Spring Field Trip: Children's Museum

I purposely gave myself Octopus Child, Quiet Instigator (as he has taken to stealing anything not nailed down) and Whiner. One of my chaperones was Limited English's mother, and I gave her LE, Selective Hearing Boy, and Smiling Boy. She chose to tag along with me, as she speaks even less than her son. So, off we went, Octopus clinging to various peers, pieces of scenery, and a startled museum staff member. Quiet Instigator instantly became lost, slinking away as soon as he heard me say to stay with us. Limited English's mother gamely smiled and shrugged and looked puzzled as we searched high and low for him. He was found moments later by another kindergarten teacher, who caught him near the exits. Apparantly he was about to hotwire a bus and take it to the Southside, but you know how rumors get started. Anyways...

This museum was completely the bomb. There was so much to see and do, we only were able to do half of what was there. As we had six boys, everything we did involved a mess and possibly some crashing into one another. We started at the giant water table, and my lecture about NOT CLIMBING INTO THE WATER. They did take me literally, and instead brought the water to one another through the various toys and water pumps availible. Octopus Child and Whiner spent ten angry minutes sitting in a window sill drying in the sun after they each dumped a cup of water over the other's head, and then cried hysterically. I just merrily laughed and popped some loose Valium that was floating by (thank you, super-coked Suburban Moms) and told them that their tears were only making them wetter.

We moved on to the next phase of this crazy adventure. Yes folks, they are now giving kids real saws, hammers, nails and screws. Each of my little guys tried their darndest to make racecars, and most of them actually accomplished something kinda neat! Especially Limited English, who pounded on my fingernails repeatedly in the process.

We ended the day at the bubble tank, where I discovered that it's some kind of strange fad 'round these parts to travel in packs of women who bring their day-old infants to what has to be the biggest petri dish on the face of the planet. And then, hover them near six year olds who are blowing thousands of bubbles with Hyper-Sting brand bubble solution. They finish their day by glaring angrily at me when I purposely pop bubbles over their heads to teach them the lesson that they are idiots, and I need to bring my home-tatoo parlor equipment next time to label them just so no one else has to find out the hard way that they are living life without common sense. The Bubble Tank was truly rad until a child threw bubble solution into Octopus Child's eyes, and I had the extreme pleasure of holding him head first under a sink to wash it out, while he kicked me until bruises formed. We all boarded the bus, several exhausted chaperones and I, and the super-energized kids; thanking our lucky stars once more that no one was lost, no one did anything more than moderate damage to property, and the public nudity was kept to a minimum.