Last week I got to go on a field trip with my year two children. Although there was no wine or Italian moonshine this time around, it still was a really fun time. We went to a kiddie amusement park called Gulliver’s Land where we broke the class into groups and took them on all the rides throughout the park. My group of seven children was very adventurous and wanted to go on every single ride. I’ve never been pulled in so many directions at once, and by the end of the day I would have been more than happy to never hear my own name shouted from a child’s lips again.
I may have been the biggest child of them all. I made sure to go on all the rides with them. I surely didn’t want to miss out. The giant mat slides, the waterfall log ride, the tower drop ride, the go-carts—I was totally game for it all. The children and I had a blast. However, I may have pushed my luck though when I chose to ride the teacups, but I simply couldn’t help myself when all my students were begging me to join them. As I took the turn table in front of me and we started to go faster and faster, my stomach started to do back-flips and my head started to beat a violent rendition of something similar to Black Sabbath. I was quite certain I was going to be remembered by my Italian students as the American teacher that spewed all over them on their field trip. Luckily, I kept my stomach in check and no little children were harmed or severely traumatized. Thank goodness, I’d hate to be the reason for years of therapy for any of these children.
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