I just came back from a field trip with Lamb's elementary school class to some sports place. It was a huge success.
I'm tired. Once I pushed Lamb on a little wheeled cart across the gym floor at high speed, cries of "Mr. Dunn! Push me!" filled the gym. Sigh. I made sure I pushed Lamb the most, but I shuttled dutifully around pushing kids at high speed across the floor. I worked up more of a sweat than the kids did. Although that is probably more a function of me being out of shape. I need to work on that.
One kid annoyed me a bit in the modified dodge ball the kids played--foxes and rabbits--which was a kind of fun the gauntlet thing. Lamb as a rabbit made it to the last two to end the game, and during the fusillade of soft balls, one boy in Lamb's class looked at me and gleefully boasted, "I'm going to hit your daughter!"
I wasn't too worried given his track record as I had watched him throw. But I did say, "I'm not worried. She'll get revenge in high school."
He's just too young to understand the real meaning of pain. Take that, you little ...
Now off to pick up my kids from school.