Yesterday, I drove on a fourth grade field trip. I often volunteer to drive on field trips, so I was prepared for the usual – my son and four of his friends, all excited to be escaping the confines of desk-dom and eager to arrive at our destination first.
“Go faster!” the boys yell from the backseat of the minivan.
“Step on it!”
“Can you turn up the music?” they add, although if even one of the boys spoke quietly, we might hear the music fine.
“Not that song!”
Yesterday, the teacher gave me a new crew – two boys and two girls. The girls immediately took control by sitting in the middle row, chatting at a normal decibel. My son opened a book so he would not have to talk to the girls. His friend pretended to sleep, though an occasional giggle escaped from the third row.
The girls sang. Justin Bieber. Katy Perry. Taylor Swift.
“I can’t believe Justin Bieber is giving up his career!” one girl said.
“He is?” I asked. Who knew?
“Well…” they were happy to educate me, “he’s been dating Selena forever, and he asked her to marry him, but she said no, but they are still dating, and he needs to stop taking drugs. So, he’s quitting.”
Do they all talk in run-on sentences?
The second girl jumped in, “Can you imagine asking someone to marry you, they say no, and so you say, fine let’s go the museum for a date? And she says okay? Wierd.”
I suggest, “teenagers!”
“Um, they’re like 26.”
How do girls know all this? Typically, the boys in my car shout, “Louder! Faster! Hurry, we have to be the first ones there!” and only sing the cuss words of a song.
These girls are talking relationships. Admittedly, just Justin Bieber’s relationship. But still!
And the boys are pretending to be anywhere but my usually very boy-friendly minivan.