It’s at this point in the calendar year that elementary school children begin to be dismissed for the summer. But no end-of-year send-off is complete without that requisite field trip (which I’m sure all teachers dread planning).

I’ve been sitting at work today, thinking of one of my favorite end of school trips. It was at the end of 5th grade, so I was 10 years old. 5th grade was a good year, we learned a whole lot about Orcas and Egypt (EXCEPT for the fact that Emily framed me for destroying Orsella’s model of a pyramid and to this very day Orsella never forgave me, even though I tried to explain to her that I didn’t destroy her pyramid model, Emily did).

Virginia is a hot, swampy, southern state, so by the time June rolls around, it’s already sticky humid and muggy as hell. So our teachers, being smart ladies, decided that our end of year trip would be…to the quiet, air-conditioned movie theatre, to see the new movie “The Sandlot.”

For those who don’t remember “The Sandlot” it’s totally worth a rental. Really cute, and contains the always classic line “YOU’RE KILLING ME, SMALLS!!”

Anywho, so our teachers and a few parents who were nice enough to give up their day and chaperone escorted a mob of 10 year olds into this theatre we had rented out, got us situated with popcorn, sorted out squabbles of who sat with whom and prepared to sit and relax for the next 90 minutes.

Roll film.

A city skyline. Some swoony, dramatic music. “Oh my God” I heard an adult utter.

“What? Why are people talking? The movie started. Gosh, that’s so rude. Shhh!”

Then the movie’s title flashed on-screen “The Crying Game.”

Almost as if it had been choreographed, every adult leapt from their seats and a few sprinted towards the film booth, desperate to stop our 10 year old eyes from watching this brutually violent, graphically nude, gender-bender of a romantic thriller.

The movie stopped right away and I’m sure someone at the Cinema got in huge trouble. Maybe they meant for it to happen, it’s pretty damn funny.

We ended up watching “The Sandlot” and it was great, but I’m always sort of curious as to what kind of mayhem would have fallen upon us if a theater packed with 10 year olds and their teachers would have sat through “The Crying Game.”

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