Episode 95: Why Field Trips Are Forbidden

I never understood the fascination with field trips.

The idea of packing a bus full of children into a moving metal box, surrounded by chaos, germs, and the incessant chatter of the unremarkable masses?
…Absolutely not.

From birth, Peresphone and Hades were immune to nonsense.

They observed the world carefully, judging every action and every human for competence—or lack thereof.

“…Why on bloody earth would we subject ourselves to the chaos of strangers?” Peresphone asked once, voice calm, fangs just showing at the corner of her mouth.

Hades tilted his head, perfectly mirrored:
“…Why risk wasted energy and exposure to incompetence?”

Beckett agreed silently. Gloves, scarf, mask—everything meticulously in place to avoid unnecessary social contamination.

The twins never took buses. Never.
Never field trips.
And certainly never participated in group excursions led by unobservant teachers. Neither did either me or Beckett when we were growing up and even then still never at all ever period.

“…Exposure to human folly is enough at home,” I’d say. “…We don’t need the outside world to teach them what you can see in a glance.”

Instead, we stay quietly in the manor, or carefully curated outings for low-risk activities.

Diana’s off-time hobby? Bingeing on otome games.

Analise and I keep our own little online book club—but these days, it’s more of a visual novel and otome club. Discord notifications ping softly as we text each other:

“…Hades just rolled a critical charm success.”
“…Persephone would never pick the predictable route. Typical.”

And we laugh quietly, knowing we’re cultivating intelligence and good taste in our children, without exposing them to the chaos of buses, field trips, or crowds.

Even when school announces trips or special outings, the twins, Beckett, and I are firmly offline and in the manor, living a life free from chaos.

“…They learn more here,” I tell the staff when politely asked. “…Observation, subtlety, and strategy are far superior lessons to noisy excursions.”

Peresphone smirks faintly.
“…And it’s far safer.”

Hades adds simply:
“…And far more efficient.”

Beckett sighs, sipping his iced tea, scarf slightly adjusted.
“…We’re safe, quiet, and still perfectly productive,” he says softly. “…And I get to enjoy my family without a bus full of screaming children in my face.”

I brush my fingers along his scarf, smirk tugging at my lips.
“…Exactly, husband of mine. And the twins already know how to make their own choices. The rest of the world can rot in its chaos.”