Last week, my older daughter went on her first field trip with her preschool class. The destination: the local and insanely festive pumpkin patch/autumn wonderland. I've known about this place for ages, and in a move very unlike me, have avoided it like the plague. As far as I know, it's hands down the most popular destination for haybales, apple cider, and general Halloween weirdness in the Northern VA area. Therefore, it attracts droves of people. When we got the notice that Iz and her classmates were destined to go, I decided to bite the bullet and sign up as a parent chaperone.
I'm not sure what I had in mind when I signed up but I definitely harbored images of fieldtrips past- the bus, the stupid songs, the naughty kids getting smacked around by the nuns, and inevitably falling asleep on the ride home. When we got to the preschool last Thursday morning, the center director told me firmly, "No parents on the bus." I have to admit, I was a more than a little disappointed. Iz opted to ride to Cox Farms with me rather than experiencing the tainted joys of the bus. Given my NJ-trained driving habits, we arrived at the farm WAAAY early and ended up standing in a wet field looking at a bunch of goats who looked for all intense and purposes like they too would rather be doing something else. Not a particularly auspicious beginning. The bus and the other parents did eventually arrive and after getting our bracelets and taking the prerequisite pictures of Iz and her friends (aw look at them on their first field trip!), we headed over to the attractions. We had a dicey start- a slide whose launch point started in an "active" volcano- I told you this place was insanely festive- which of course caused Iz to freak out a little. Before she could stomp her feet twice and shriek a third time, I had her on my lap and down the slide. And, like some autumn miracle, from thereonin she and I both had a great time. We went down a ton of slides, including one at which I left my daughter holding the supply bag while I went down solo on my jute sack. We drank cider together, ate apples, went on a hay ride during which Iz almost wet herself in the haunted barn, and then, after four hours of exhausting fun, we both went home and took naps.
And, perhaps not surprisingly, I found myself getting really nostolgic and probably almost caused even my syrupy, lovely pink-loving daughter to get a bit ill. Suddenly, I was 6 yrs old again and not so happily entrenched in Sr. Margaret Mary's first grade class at Our Lady of the Valley grammar school. Sr. MM was in a rare good mood the day we took our autumn excursion across the field in front of the convent over to the little farmer next to the school. We walked in zig zags in a single file line behind Sr MM as her habit flapped in the breeze. We each shyly took a pumpkin from the farmer and walked back and wrote a little "story" about our adventures. A pretty pathetic little memory but one of my favorites from that fairly dreadful place. I told Iz that she may just remember her first time at Cox Farms for the rest of her life. Thank goodness it was a good day to remember for both of us!
No comments:
Post a Comment