I was a chaperone on a field trip on May 26. It was draining, and showed me how little kids actually learn on field trips because they're so wrapped up in the "going" and the experience of /being/ in the place--in the novelty of being there, that they don't really pay attention to what they are doing or where they are.
The parents had to ride separately from the kids, and it happened that we arrived at the destination before the students. A few of the parents (including me) were crossing the street and we could hear the school bus from ACROSS the street. Later, one of the kids in my group said it was so loud her ears were still ringing. She was smiling; it seemed like she didn't mind too much.
In honor of my school bus memories, here is a poem:
impossibly loud
squishy seats, sticky floors
fun memories made
