It was December in the Victorian highlands – cold, wet, windy-foggy…the long Victorian winter was determined to hang around. As I sat behind the wheel of the service bus bound for bush kinder, I commented out loud “I wish we could just keep driving to Queensland.”
“YES!” Sophie shouted from the back of the bus, eyes wide with excitement. “Let’s go to Queensland! It’s warm in Queensland, you know.”
And just like that, the spell was cast.
The mood shifted. Imagination sparked. Freedom Cup filled. Creativity took the wheel.
Julie, my colleague, played along: “It takes a long time to drive to QLD… we’d have to stop at a motel overnight.”
“Ooh, we can eat ice cream for breakfast!” Sophie beamed.
“And stay up ALL night!” added Millie.
“And jump on the beds!” Julie giggled.
“And not brush our teeth!” shouted Archie, giddy with the liberation of it all.
“Ohhh that’s sooo naughty!” squeaked Sophie, her body wriggling with delight. You could almost see her Fun and Freedom Cups overflowing. And just like that, we were off – adventuring together on the most deliciously ‘naughty’ imaginary road trip north.
From the front of the bus, Julie pointed out the blank paddocks: “There’s Albury-Wodonga… and just up ahead, we’ll pass the Dog on the Tucker box.”
“MUUUUUUMMMM,” Sophie called out, pitch-perfect whine of a tired four-year-old, “Are we there yet?!”
(Laughter from the back seat.)
I filled my own Fun Cup imagining what I'd say if I really was the Mum on this road trip. We played I Spy. We got ‘bored.’ We relived every glorious, groan-worthy moment of long car rides with kids.
As we neared the bush kinder location, Julie gestured to some rusty fibro shacks: “Here we are in Byron Bay… Look at all the mansions!” Then, to a brown, super-slimy duck pond: “And here’s the beach. We could stop for a swim on the way home…”
Yeah, or not!
Sophie didn’t miss a beat: “We’re here! This is Queensland. It’s sooo hot here, don’t you know?”
For the next three hours, we were transported. Wrapped in snow coats and beanies, we became Queensland locals in the middle of the drizzly Victorian bush. The children, bursting with imagination and agency, filled their Mastery Cups as they built and managed a sushi-and-ice-cream shop. Gum leaves were menus. Tanned bark became rice. Sticks substituted phones with stick-selfies taken and payments (for Sushi and ice cream) made through ‘Stickspace.’
We laid out our towels on the beach (aka rugs on the ground), rubbed on imaginary sunscreen, and lounged under trees reading books while ‘soaking up the Queensland sun.’
This play was pure Flow-state, joyful collaboration. The children negotiated, invented, disagreed, compromised, and created. They worked out roles, designed experiences, and pulled us in when needed. For most of the session, Julie and I became ‘props’ for the children’s rich collaborative play. Connection Cups were quietly filled as we giggled side by side, sharing stories, roles, and stick-ice-creams.
As the session drew to a close, Julie and I exchanged a look, that ‘let’s not mess with this magic’ kind of look. We quietly packed up around the children that day, determined to protect and nurture their play till the very last minute.
When we returned to kinder, the day was still cool, but our hearts were warm, our cheeks sore from smiling, and our Cups well and truly overflowing.
Even now, years later, I can feel it: the joy, the laughter, the power of letting go of plans and leaning into possibility. All it took was an idea, a bus, and a willingness to go along for the ride.
This day? Top three of my ten-year teaching career.
I wonder what makes your top three list?
Author: Linda Price