I’m just back from a weekend on a bus with 175 7th and 8th band members where I learned a new rule for chaperoning trips with kids: bring rubber gloves. We went to Cleveland for some concerts and some fun–including a great day riding the roller coasters at Cedar Point amusement park. I was prepared for a weekend without sleep, getting lip from some of these young teens, even coping with a crisis or two. After all, am I seasoned chaperone. I have always volunteered to chaperone anything from a field trip to the zoo with the pre-school to this three-day weekend with the junior high band. I consider chaperoning trips an anthropoligical experience, a chance to observe my children in their natural habitat. What I was not prepared for on this weekend outing was the barfing. I figured that once kids got to be 12, 13, or 14, they would be past the barfing stage. Not so, said one of the teachers, the young, good-looking single guy who makes the girls swoon. He was the first to jump up to clean up the barf on his bus. “Who brought the rubber gloves,” he asked. The other chaperones all looked at one another. “No one brought rubber gloves?” he said, a tone of disbelief in his voice. “You always have to bring rubber gloves because someone always barfs.”