I'm sitting here frantically working, and it occurred to me that my current task is both sad and hilarious (not to mention ridiculous, meaningless, and fraught with anxiety). What am I doing? I'm coordinating all the volunteers for the girls' school carnival this Saturday, and I can't scare up enough people to monitor the dreaded jumpie things. Everyone's into the tattoos and face painting and games and food service, but the jumpies are anathema.
Truth be told, I can't blame them. I was a Jumpy Monitor (or as I referred to myself, "Matron of the Asylum") last year, and it was the longest 90 minutes of my life.
Perhaps the problem was that I oversaw the long, obstacle course jumpy that's reserved for the bigger kids. Bigger kids = not so fun.
Perhaps the problem was that I did not have a bullhorn and/or whistle. Raw throat = not so fun.
Perhaps the problem was that it was not okay to curse to make the severity of my threats truly understood. Restraints on language = not so fun.
Perhaps the problem was that I became obsessed with one particular kid who was an EVIL CHEATER, and I became determined (in a somewhat sitcom-like way) to exact my revenge on his EVIL CHEATING SELF. Revenge obsession = not so fun.
So, yeah. Not a lot of takers in jumpy land.