The School Trip
DD went on a school trip today. Quite a long way, in a coach, on the motorway. This morning, I slathered her in sunscreen, packed her sunhat, lunch and water bottle in her backpack, took a deep breath and kissed her goodbye.
It’s no big deal – she’s been going on ‘school’ trips since she was two years old. On the first trip, when she was not quite two, I took her myself in the car and met the teachers at the location.
When she was almost three, the class HAD to go on the minibus and I was petrified. As another mum said to me at the time, ‘It’s just a bus full of babies on the highway.’ I volunteered to be a parent-supervisor, and was allowed to take DD separately in the car. Problem solved – only DD was distraught that she wasn’t on the bus with her friends, so I let her go back to nursery on the bus. What she didn’t know was that I followed the bus along Sheikh Zayed Road (a 12-lane highway), watching it every inch of the way.
When she was almost four, she went both ways on the bus. I checked out the bus (big, solid, good seatbelts) and followed it just a few kilometres.
This year, DH and I talked about me following the bus.
‘You’re not going to?’ He sounded surprised.
‘It’s got to stop,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to be following her to the Alps on the Year 6 ski trip.’
‘What do you mean ‘following’?’ said DH. ‘We’ll be in Business Class. Technically, she’ll be following us.’