It’s 8:45 and I’m doing a final head count. We’ve got 72 kids, 3 teachers, 10 parents, 1 grandparent (gulp) and 2 bus drivers. All set. The drive to our destination goes surprisingly smooth; Kapowski tries to rally the bus to sing, and my mini-Turtle yells up to me that he found a quarter lodged in the back of a seat cushion. Go figure. Tenenbaum, wearing his orange shades, asks me if he thinks the science center would be interested in displaying his last year’s science project. On rodents.
Once we arrive I neurotically count heads again, and split the children up with their parent supervisors. I glance up to see one mom sending text messages on her cell phone while her group of children run ahead of her. LAWSUIT is the only word that pops into my mind. I remind the parents to meet back together in two hours, and we’re off.
Things are going surprisingly well. We’re at a hands-on science museum, which is definitely minimizing the potential for disaster. We explore and learn and I’m really giving myself kudos for planning such a great field trip. The groups meet back together and everyone is accounted for and in one piece. Even Grandma.
So now we’re headed to our next location, the museum’s IMAX movie theatre, to watch a documentary on the human body. “Learn about the circulatory and digestive systems,” the flyer had boasted. Since 5th graders study the human body, I figure I couldn’t ask for a better tie-in. “Perfect” I think, as we settle down into our seats. 45 minutes of just sitting. The kids are happily munching on popcorn, and surprisingly, no one is throwing any of it.
The movie starts, and just as expected, we watch a little boy eat an apple, and see what happens as it travels down his esophagus. I’ve finally started to relax for the first time all day, when I see an image on the screen that grabs my attention. It’s a pregnant woman. “Not to worry,” I tell myself. “I’m sure they’re going to show her eating an apple too.” But they don’t. Instead she talks about what it feels like to be pregnant. I’m starting to squirm. This WAS NOT in the brochure. “Don’t panic,” I instruct myself. But the worst it yet to come. We then hear a man’s voice booming in the background, “But where did this baby come from?” Oh no. I can’t breathe. At about 500 times their actual size, an egg and sperm are projected onto the IMAX screen. Oh, the trauma. And to think we almost saw it in 3-D. It gets even worse. As they unite on screen, a familiar voice starts to sing. It’s Marvin Gaye. Belting out, “Let’s Get It On.”
I feel a light tap on my shoulder. It’s Kapowski. “Should we be watching this?”
I bolt out of the theater. My mission is twofold. One: LUNGE at the manager. Two: Pick up a job application at the concession stand, because after today, I’m probably going to need it.
