Containing The Dork.

This is E with Amadeus, their mascot in his theatre department. There’s a story behind her being their mascot, but if I told it to you I’d have to kill you.

I leave today to chaperone a 2-night trip with E and the rest of the theatre kids at his school.

AND I AM SO EXCITED.

This is the third year E has done this trip but my first year chaperoning due to various reasons that I pushed aside this year because this is MY LAST DAMN CHANCE. He graduates! No more! I’m going! Screw everything else!

I’m stupidly excited about this because everyone always comes back from these trips having had SO. MUCH. FUN. It’s the state-level theatre competition so each of the kids are competing in something, but that doesn’t take long, so the rest of the trip is spent watching other performances from other schools around the state.

But the reason I’m really excited? I get to be in close proximity of E and his friends.

I don’t mean to sound braggy or anything, but E and his friends are – by far – the coolest people I know. They’re fun, they’re smart, they’re witty, and I try my best not to dork out around them.

It never works. It’s hard to contain a force as powerful as my dorkiness.

E’s friends don’t come over to our house as much as I’d like, I think mainly because he has two young siblings that tend to annoy the crap out of them all. And Nikki thinks it’s really fun to pick on E when he has friends over. And of course – he doesn’t fight back because he’s nice – which makes her act 10 times worse. It’s ridiculous.

So when E asked if I’d cook dinner for his friends last night? The kids were on STRICT orders not to pester them at all.

But no one gave me the strict command not to dork out too much. Which I did, as usual.

I can’t help it! They’re cool! And I’m not! And I want their coolness to rub off on me a little bit!

So, I’m totally excited about the trip. I’m going to try my best to be cool and not dork out around the teenagers. This is E’s Senior trip to the state Trumbauer competition, I want it to be filled of wonderful memories of good times with his friends, not with memories of his Mom embarrassing the crap out of him.

Although, let’s be honest. This is my kid we’re talking about. I dress up for midnight book releases and have Pajama Movie Nights. His tolerance for embarrassing behavior from me is unusually high.