Days gone by.

Now that I'm done with school for the semester, my mom likes to think that I can be her buddy all the time. Which is fine, because I like spending time with her. What I don't like is showing up at her school to be her "special person" for lunch or helping her class understand the workings of the small intestine. Those new milk containers that look like zip lock bags full of white out frighten me.

Today she asked me what I was doing on Thurs., and I knew this was a loaded question. When I said nothing, she asked me if I would like to chaperone the 4th graders on a trip to Billie Creek Village. [It's one of those "old settler" places where everyone dresses like they did in the 1800s and you stand around as they chop firewood and talk about "the good ole days."]

I have posted before about how I am not teacher material and I don't like being around kids, but the only thing that could make it worse is going on a history trip. I used to feign illness when I was in elementary so I didn't have to go to those things. I am of the opinion that we have the technology now, so why should I care how they did it back then. If I want butter, I'll go to the damn store and buy butter. I don't need to sit around for an hour in a bonnet sloshing buttermilk around until it starts to curd.

Again, one more reason the community should thank me for not becoming a teacher.