Monday, November 8, 2010

An arresting experience

Another day, another preschool excursion. Following on from our marathon trip to the art gallery last term, today Mr3 and I attended the local police station. He was there to see a police motorbike. I was there to see him.

You would think I might have learned from our last adventure together. But no. He looked at me with his big blue eyes and his most endearing expression (I admit, he does endearing very well) and said, 'You are coming with me, aren't you mama?'. Is there a person in the world who could say no to that? Not in the Fibro there isn't.

Also, the art gallery trip wasn't the total wash I'd expected. Despite my worst fears that I'd lost four hours of my life to an experience that he would forget within five minutes, there has been arty progress. Within weeks, he'd decided he wanted an 'art gallery' in his bedroom, and so an array of his works was artfully blue-tacked to the wall, alongside some special commissions by Mr6. "I can't draw fire engines yet," Mr3 reported. "So my brother is going to do them for me."

He takes great pride in calling Mr6 his 'bruvver', and even greater pride in the triptych of 'Fire Engines in Red and Blue' that Mr6 created.

But I digress. Today was about sirens of a different kind. Once again there were 20 preschoolers and a long, arduous walk involved. This time, we had perky Officer Gina to escort us. The boys were all very admiring of her belt, with its gun/radio/handcuffs accessories.

We all Stopped, Looked and Listened at every corner, practising our road safety. We got two blocks into the walk before both my little charges - Mr3 and his friend The King - started wondering if they could just stop thanks. By the time we got there, nobody was ready to look or listen. They just wanted to lie down in the shade.

But there was business to be done. We checked out a couple of offices, watching policemen in uniform complete paper work and looking like they'd much rather be elsewhere. We saw the safe where the guns go at night - but not the actual guns. We couldn't see the jail, because, as Officer Gina explained, there was a baddie in there. I'll be calling Officer Gina tonight at 2am when Mr3 wakes up with a 'scary dream'.

The highlight of the visit, apart from a showbag full of stickers, tattoos and a colouring book, was an inspection of a police car, complete with flashing lights and very loud siren. Mr3 would not get in. He was still looking for the motorbike.

We walked back the six blocks in the hot sun (the only hot sun we've seen for a week, I might add). Actually, I walked back carrying Mr3, who insisted there was something in his shoe, despite several checks that proved the only thing in there was his foot. When I left him to go to work, he was lying on the rug, shoes off, under a fan, with a damp cloth on his face. Do we call that a successful outing?

Tonight as I tucked him in, he suddenly threw his little arms around my neck. "Thanks for sharing my scursion," he said, with a sigh and that endearing expression.

It was my pleasure.



  1. Having a 4 year old son, this was all so close to home, all the endearing and quirky I relate! x

  2. CUTE!

    I've never yet managed to make it to a police station excursion, somehow.

  3. Oh yes, I always try to stay away from school excursions and camps, but like you, I can't say no to those big innocent eyes and hopeful grin. So along I go, trying desperately to follow all the bobbing heads, supervising toilet visits, soothing frayed tempers and sore feet ... I'm always exhausted, but the kids are happy. And I guess it's great that they still want me to come along.

  4. Ive had a couple of police station excursions now but not when they were toddlers ....

  5. Isn't it divine when they say 'thanks'!! xxx

  6. Oh, that second to last line.

    Little boys and their scursions.

    How lovely to make him so happy.

  7. I confess ithat by the time you got to viewing the police car I was a touch jealous. In my next life I want to come back as Officer Gina and get to wear that belt and do paperwork about baddies in cells. Cool!! x

  8. Lucky! I'm from a family of police officers and you've seen more of a police station than I have! Although as a 4 year old I did lock myself into my Dad's handcuffs...
    I'm looking forward (timidly) to school excursions. I just hope ours has a bus!
    And what a beautiful thank you.

  9. wow a great day. i often go to school excursions to assist my daughter & i admit I enjoy witnessing the sense of wonder & awe. I took her to a police station open day once too & she very much appreciated having her fingerprints & getting a mug shot.

  10. I simultaneously dread and love school excursions. My littlies so thrilled I am there but sweet lord it's exhausting. That said, here at Casa de Chaos, I won't miss them either.

  11. Love school excursions, they are so much fun. Most perilious one was where we tripped to the wetlands & we mummy helpers had to hold the children by their shirts so they could lean over the water to catch tadpoles. Good GOD, i had to hold onto 4 Tshirts at once, desperately hoping i didn't lose any of my charges. I miss the little excursions now my 4th is finishing up 1st grade, they don't call for mummy helpers any more & i doubt they will for high school either. Love Posie

  12. Gorgeousness. Except when he wakes up with the bad dream! And good on you for joining his "scursion", so far I've not been brave enough to join Mr. Kindy on his *I have a fear of dealing with many unruly children supposedly under my care* are a brave woman!

  13. Love the little people excursions. Love how excited they get.

    Although once I had to practically carry my then 8-yr-old up the steep last part of a rock climb of Mt Warning. By the time I got back down I could barely walk my thighs were so sore.
    I've heard the traditional owners don't want people climbing it anymore - thank goodness...

    "scursion". Too cute.


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