Grabbing the bull

Today I faced one of my worst fears head on and, I would like to think, tackled it to the ground. I am scared shitless of teenage girls. Boys I can handle. But girls in all forms make me want to run screaming. I spent over 7seven hours in a car with three giggling 14 year-old girls, and now? I am so tired that the insides of my bones hurt.
Why did I do this to myself? Because my son’s class is participating in a Shakespeare workshop that happens to be in almost the deepest Southwestern corner of Utah. I would suspect that there might be decent Shakespeare plays somewhere in the mountains of Colorado, but we are not fools enough to attend them. Nay, a seven hour drive is a much better way to spend two whole school days.
This morning the teacher divided the class into four groups and dispensed the children among several moms who had volunteered to be chaperones. Somehow I ended up with a car full of girls as I longingly watched all fo the boys load up into other vehicles. I was dreading the ride and everything that would be involved. But really? It wasn’t so bad. They talked about shaving their legs and armpits, boys and their wardrobes. They were loud and giggly but I somehow survived.