To the Depths of Hell and Back
Last night, I plunged to the depths of hell. Oh, I know I say that every time I clean Pinot & Grigio's bathroom but this was worse. I chaperoned 300 pre-teens at the YMCA dance.
I'm not sure why it's called a dance because the kids hopped. Up and down, sideways, back and forth, they hopped. And I was stuck in the middle, kinda like a handful of Mexican jumping beans with a kidney bean mixed in by mistake.
Dance organizers were teens themselves, not too many years older than their charges. Parents were required to volunteer in order for their kids to attend. Misery loves company, I suppose. The KICs (kids in charge) armed us with flashlights and said to just shine a light on the ones getting too close each other or beginning to fight. Sorta like spraying a hose on two dogs. After an hour hopping up and down without stopping, in an overcrowded, under-cooled gymnasium, I think a spraying from a hose would've gone over better. The kids would've liked it, too.
KICs also suggested if kids got out of hand to turn the trouble-makers over to them. They didn't think we parents should be burdened with disciplining the kids. Right. Take away my one chance for enjoyment.
At least it's over. Until next spring. Maybe Cat will take up another, less frenetic interest. Wonder if she'd go for mud wrestling.
posted by danielle schaaf @ 10:37 AM
6 Comments:
You difinitely chose the right title for this post. Ugh.....I hate teen "dances". The flashlight part is hysterical though. I'd have gone around shining it in kids eyes all night long just to annoy because that's the kind of good mother that I am. LOL
The only thing I know of that compares to a teenage dance is a teenage birthday party aka THE LONGEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE. Every time a crowd would gather in the dark, I would pop up in the middle offering s'mores or hotdogs. Oh yeah, they LOVED me.
I loved the flashlight! I wish they would've given us whistles so I could blow it in their ears.
Gotta be obnoxious and in their faces or the kids'll be sucking each other's faces!
The only thing worse than those teen dances is riding home from a football or basketball game on the bus with 40 7th & 8th grade boys. YUCK....Smelly little farts!
"And I was stuck in the middle, kinda like a handful of Mexican jumping beans with a kidney bean mixed in by mistake."
That's a priceless image!
Stepping Thru, I've Been There And Done That!!! I had to fight Bongo for the open window when I carpooled my boys and their friends home. Seriously, I gagged after football practice.
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