Miss Crankypants knows a couple of authors who regularly sign up as workshop leaders on cruise ships. Granted, these are very foolish authors, and perhaps a tad masochistic to boot.
Considering the recent cruise ship disasters (also known as the Poop Chronicles), Miss CP is definitely NOT joining her addle-brained peers.
She asked them exactly why they willingly subject themselves to two weeks of sea-sick puking and the smells of sewage and unwashed bodies–all while attending a class on “How to Pitch a Tent from a Bedsheet.”
The answer, Miss CP regrets to tell you, will be as unsavory as a three day-old-after-the-refrigeration-is-history sushi bar.
LIKE torture? Why travel a thousand miles out to the middle of the ocean to satisfy your kinky side? You could have the exact same experience just by visiting your local preschool.
First, little kids are always good for whatever stomach virus is going around. Ten minutes in ABC Land and you’ll be running for the bathroom like a pro. On the ship, you’ll have to wait at least until the USS Misery is three days away from civilization before Montezuma’s Revenge kicks in.
Next, in preschool they teach role playing. With a rack of hats, a kid can be the next fireman, football player or cross dresser. Plus, in preschool, if you dodge the virus there’s always the head lice.
On a cruise ship, it’s considered bad form to snatch the captain’s hat and parade around the dining room. See if you’re asked to sit at the captain’s table again, especially if his toupee flies off when you grab the hat.
Finally, preschool has just as much fun as a cruise: Miss Cranky was once a real-life preschool teacher and she guarantees it! You can play “Find Billy” (who has hidden in the school dumpster on trash day); “The Gerbil Learns to Swim” (in the potty) or “Little Amanda Learns Her Colors”(picks her nose and correctly identifies the color green). Preschool is a blast!
But on cruise ships there’s always lots to do, too–to keep your mind off your death wish once the main engines fail, leaving the ship drifting toward gigantic icebergs. Choose from classes such as “Plunge Your John Like a Pro,” “How to Tell Norovirus from Plain Old Puking” or “Write Your Own Ransom Note” in case the ship gets raided by pirates.
Miss Crankypants will remain a land-lubber, thank you very much. She likes her pirates to be around three feet tall and to constantly ask if we’re there yet. Oh, and she’ll construct her own tent from the bedsheets.
Miz Crank–
I enjoyed this report. Glad I wasn’t there.
With all the talk recently about women in combat, I’d like to say that we of the weaker sex will gladly fight the baddies from the Halls of Montezuma to the shores of Tripoli … as long as you gals do the heroic rocking, wiping, holding, controlling, changing, medicating, and otherwise placating the future of our country. I’d recommend you for combat ribbons for all the above, not to mention my thanks that our All-wise God and Creator chose women to give birth to those tiny examples of His grace.
We’ll help you love ’em (bedtime stories, too) but when it comes to poop and puke duty, we men will be happy to leave that to the pros–you gals. Thanks for all you do!
Dear Brick,
We don need no stinking badges. Miz Crank is not willing to do all the poop/puke duty though. She has trained her husband well.
Thanks for reading Miss Crankypants! Linda aka Miss Crankypants
Don’t be too hasty, Miss CP. Truly we do deserve badges. Brick, I salute you. Your insight and understanding elevate you among the male of the species. Also, I commend you, Miss CP, for an excellent training job. (And I do mean the Hubs.) Not all women in the trenches of motherhood have succeeded so well.
I also must strongly suggest that you not be quite so hasty in you condemnation of cruising. We’ve taken 5 lovely cruises, seen parts of the world we never would have otherwise, and been very pampered to boot. ( I find I like pampering a lot.) All these trips were accomplished without Dramamine or a single visit to the ER. I’m not a spokesman for a cruiseline, but I don’t want everyone quit taking them. We always choose a midsize ship. They seem to be less often in the news. Keep Crankin.
Well now the cat’s out of the bag: Miz Crank gets terrible seasickness and is averse to boats that are bigger than her bathtub. Her jaded opinion of cruises is just that: a jaded, green-around-the-gills opinion. Ports of Call need not call. Miz CP aka Linda
I’ve never been on a cruise, but I guarantee that this is all true.
I used to teach preschool.
Ah, a fellow preschool teacher. Someone who is well-acquainted with little chairs and drinking fountains two feet high. An expert! Thanks for visiting Miz Cranky!