(written Friday night... almost Saturday morning. Yes, very late. At Disneyland.)
(seriously. I wasn't going to use this as a title, but it's SO appropriate for today)
Nothing major, but just the 'We're too tired, and we were up late, and we didn't eat well, and we don't REALLY get along, but you're putting 4 of us in a room with 2 beds, and so we're a bit edgy and loopy, and where's the extra sodas' sort of tears that are bound to happen towards the end of a band trip.
OK, here are the tears, in no particular order.
Skip's cell phone fell out of his pocket on the Indiana Jones ride. He's pretty devastated. I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening making trips back to the ride to see if a phone had been turned in.
One girl got sick while in line for Space Mountain. Because kids can't "fly solo" in the park, she phoned me to come get her. I ran across the park in 95 degree heat to go get her, and we walked back to the chaperone area where she laid down, and perked up after about an hour.
EVERY TIME I went on a "go and get Fast Passes for the kids" errand, I would BREAK the Fast Pass machine. OR the ride that I was getting Fast Passes for would suddenly SHUT DOWN. This happened not once... not twice... not THREE times... but FOUR TIMES!!!!! There is now a note in the Band Trip File that says "Do not EVER let Kemma Parker be in charge of getting Fast Passes. She is a JINX.
(I think that the note should have said "She is a MINX" but I wasn't asked.)
One girl got back spasms while running across the park so she wouldn't be late for her workshop. Another got a migraine. Two kids got minor sunstroke.
About a half hour before one important meet-up, three of the kids who were supposed to be in the workshop got stuck at the very top of the coaster when Space Mountain broke. One of the girls? Afraid of heights. She rides Space Mountain because she can't SEE how high she was. She had a panic attack when they had to WALK DOWN FROM THE TOP with the lights on. They were late to the workshop, but the Disney folks were accomodating while she breathed into a paper bag for a while.
We had four kids who played in two bands, so they played in one, then waited for the second band to take the stage. While they were waiting, the bus that contained ALL THEIR STUFF (apart from their tuxedo uniforms) drove away to be serviced, so they spent the rest of the day wearing a x-large Disney shirt (provided out of the goodness of the conductor's heart) over their tuxedo so they could be out in the park, as Disney management said that the boys could NOT be seen in the park in tuxedos, because they might be mistaken for park personnel. Oh, and the boys had to wear their oh-so-comfortable (not) black dress-up shoes, too.
One of the male chaperones never showed up for one of the back-stage events, so the trio of boys-who-should-have-been-left-behind were unchaperoned, and ended up mooning people who should not have been mooned. Let's just draw a curtain over the details of THAT mis-event.
Back at the hotel, after two kids got lost, and we ended up late by nearly an hour, I was just settling into the Chaperone Meeting when I got a call. "Um, Mrs. Parker? We're having sleeping arrangement issues up here. Can you come and help?"
Egads. So one of the girls is a bit of a fragile child. All well and good. But you don't play off her frailty, and make her dissolve into a bawling mess. On the flip side, special-needs girl? You need to grow a spine, and stop making everyone else do stuff for you that I'm pretty sure you can do for yourself. But I channeled the wisdom of Solomon, and then used my classic crowd-pleaser "Get along, and don't make me come back up here" line.
THEN! No sooner had I gotten back to the chaperone meeting (where I missed out on the beer/wine/foo-foo-drink ordering, and ended up with water), the phone rang again. This time the other room of girls, "Um, Mrs. Parker? I don't know what happened, but the toilet won't stop running, and it overflowed, and, um... what do we do?"
Excuse me, now, while I go cry myself to sleep.
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