In the wee hours of Friday morning, Peachie left for a school field trip to Washington, DC. We had received texts every few hours - arrived here safely, nice weather - ate lunch at a ghetto McDonalds - went to see Congress, boring - dinner at HardRock, having a blast.
And then last night she called us quite upset. Seems there is an openly gay boy on the trip and when they got to the hotel his two roommates refused to bunk with him. (Why they didn’t bring this up when they first assigned rooms weeks earlier, I have no idea) Anyway, Peachie put her teacher/chaperone on the phone -
Teacher: Peachie offered to let him sleep in with her. She said her moms would understand.
Me: It is fine with me as long as you don’t have a problem as a chaperone.
Teacher: Well, there are no other rooms, I don’t have a lot of choices here.
Peachie called this morning with this report -
“Ryan woke me this morning with a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice. He gave me the weather report and had already picked out an outfit for me and ironed it. I think I want to marry a gay man.”
Don’t we all . . .