Every year the middle school & high school French language program organizes a field trip to Winnipeg to attend some kind of festival or other. Don’t ask me what it is because it’s too damn early to remember stuff like that. Anyway, last time my son went on the trip Ian went along as a chaperone. This time he convinced me that I should volunteer because I would have fun. I was like “okay! I love Winnipeg! I’ll do it!”
If only I had known, it was a trick. A horrible, horrible trick. What kind of crazy person says “Hey! I get horrible travel anxiety. You know what would be a great idea? Chaperoning a bunch of high school kids on a trip to ANOTHER COUNTRY!
Passports, permission slips, foreign currency, oh my!
Also, if I had known volunteering to do this involved being at the school at 5:30 AM, I might have reconsidered.
On the other hand, FREE TRIP! And I don’t even have to drive!
On the other other hand, BUS FULL OF HIGH SCHOOL KIDS.
Thankfully they only assigned me four kids, one of whom is my own, so I should be ok. I think.
There had better be poutine at this festival. Anxiety of this magnitude requires gravy. Lots of gravy. And cheese.