PGL - The Aftermath

I don’t know whether PGL actually stands for Parents Get Lost or whether that is just a rumour started by some kid that has become fact through popular belief.

Anyway, the parents did ‘get lost’ for the duration of Year 5’s trip, and so it was with some excitement that we all awaited the arrival of the coach from the Isle of Wight bringing the children back to us.

As anticipated, I had heard nothing from Ben at all. I gathered from another mum whose son did write, which boys he had been sharing a room with, but nothing else. I knew all the climbing and physical challenges thrown at them in this sort of trip would be right up Ben’s street and was keen to hear all about it.

I wasn’t really expecting a change in him, but the boy who sauntered off the coach with his backpack nonchalantly thrown over one shoulder and a heavy silver skull ring on his finger seemed a little older than the Ben who went away.

He accepted my hug, though I didn’t particularly feel the love in return, that’s not new, in public anyway.

I asked him how it was; “Brilliant,” but he didn’t offer any details. We joined the throng of people collecting their luggage, Ben was getting impatient and once we had his bag, he didn’t want to hang around.  “Mum, can we just get out of here now!?” he said, with all the charm of a moody teen.

We did, and on the short car journey home, after a lot of questions from me, I began to get more of his news. The highs – all the activities and challenges, and being one of the only kids to make the ‘leap of faith’ jump from pillar to trapeze, the lows – being put in a group with his least favourite boys, getting soaked when he tripped over a mop and bucket in the canteen and being sick. I got the impression he’d had a great time though. When I pulled out a half written letter from his bag later, which was scrawled on a page ripped from his small notebook, he wrote that he hadn’t time to write a proper letter, as he was having to (sic) much fun.

When we got in, he greeted his sister in a slow lazy drawl;

“Hey Emilia, high five.”

That, I thought, is definitely a child who has spent all week with his peers.

This ‘coolness’ has since rubbed off though. He just ran past me making helicopter noises and chasing Patrick in a very noisy game involving a small wooden helicopter and some trains. I am so glad the trip didn’t make him grow up that much.

He felt different though. When he was in bed that night I walked past his room and he told me in a reflective moment;

“I think I learnt a lot from the Isle of Wight experience.”

“Did you Ben?” I said, surprised at this uncharacteristic confession, “Like what?”

“Well, more independence I think.”

“Oh well, that is good then,” I said. He didn’t add any more and I turned to go.

“Oh Mum?” he called “Could you just get me a glass of water?....and could you just turn the light on while I drink it....and could you just turn it off again afterwards?”

Yup, I thought, real independent.

Other details of the trip gradually emerged – some from my foray into his rucksack – there were some seriously muddy clothes, but many unworn, so I figured he’d basically worn the same thing for five days, including the jeans that were meant for the disco. It had been specified on the kit list, that jeans were unsuitable for activities, but he obviously worn them anyway. He had managed to lose his towel – which I had foolishly bought new for the trip, as I found we didn't have an appropriately sized one.

There was a photo of him, taken on his disposable camera, apparently cleaning his teeth, so at least there was some level of hygiene maintained.

He lost some jogging bottoms, which turned up in another boy’s luggage and gained a pair of socks belonging to a different boy in his bag, but otherwise, did quite well, in terms of responsibility, and managing himself without me there to remind.

Ironically, on questioning, it appeared he had never even used the brand new towel. When asked when it was, he had last had a bath or shower, he replied “I dunno, but it wasn’t in the Isle of Wight.”