There's a reason I didn't teach kindergarten...

Those people are saints.

Patience is one of the main things I pray for, and I'm being totally serious.  As a mother, my impatience and exasperation are probably my worst qualities.  Today was a personal test.

I was a driver for a field trip.

I used to think Sam was a wild-child, and he is when he's comfortable with friends and family.  He will push my limits ALL DAY LONG.  However, when he's around most other authority figures, he's an angel.  *BRAG ALERT*  I am often told by his teachers what a "sweet, smart, child" he is and that he is always on his best behavior, seldom has to be corrected, etc.  As another lady put it, "I guess he's so busy being good for everyone else that when he gets home, he's spent."

'Tis true.

But today...today I had four little boys in my car, including Sam.  It's maybe a 5 minute car ride to the museum. It went a little something like this:

"Hey, what's your name?  Are you Sam's mom? What do I call you?"
"You can call me Ms. Alli."
"I don't want to call you that.  My sister is Alli, and I don't like her."

Fair enough.

"Mom? Do you have a tissue?  E's nose is running."

I hand the child a napkin from the glove compartment.  He blows his nose, and tosses it back to me.  With, well, snot on it.  I tried to take it in stride, but...gross.

"Hey, is this a Mercedes?"
"Ha! No.  No, it isn't."
"That's what I'm going to drive when I grow up."

Wow.

Then Sam has to stir up the age-old Ole Miss/State debate by asking who they "cheered for."  Now, we (I) have tried to teach him that everyone doesn't go to the same school, and that's ok.  Do I really think that?  No.  :)  BUT, I don't want my kid making anyone feel bad, and I don't want anyone to make him feel bad.
So he launches in to why the bulldog is a better mascot than a rebel by telling the child that a "rebel is just an old man."

Can't imagine where he got that info.

They start their infantile argument, which I tried to cut off by asking, "Who's excited about the museum!?"

Child from the backseat:   "I am. Hey--I can burp my ABC's."
Me:  Let's not do that.
Child: "ABCDEFGHIJK..."

There were other comments that I'm not going to get into.  Comparatively, Sam looked pretty tame.

I have to admit, it was pretty funny.  Dear Lord, boys are gross.

We arrived, found their teacher, and she (thankfully) took over.  She is wonderful.  I seriously don't know how they deal with it.

But aren't they cute?