Wednesday, October 24, 2007

He knows who's been naughty or nice...

Today is Parent/Teacher conference day.

I've been waiting for this day all year long! I've put up the tree and strung popcorn and hung up my stocking and wrapped all the presents.

Don't you say a word. You'll ruin my delusions!

Lucky for my oldest son, he's brought up his grades considerably. We've been fighting a notion he's had for years, that homework isn't entertaining and therefore not worth doing much less handing in. I remind him that giving birth to him wasn't entertaining either, but some things you just have to do.

Should I be comparing childbirth to a carnival shooting gallery? Hit the target, get a prize! The little lady's a Winnnnnahhhhhh! Ding ding ding!

I suppose attending Parent/Teacher Conferences are optional. I wasn't sent a summons but a note that looks more like an invitation without the gift registry. I could stay home. I could lounge on my couch and watch childbirth programs on Discovery Health. On Friday I could mail the teachers a card wishing them well with a crumpled five dollar bill in it.

My teacher husband gets frustrated because the kids that most need these conferences have the parents that don't show...and that's why I attend. How much of my kid's homework would ever get done if I didn't appear to be in evil collusion with their teachers? It's how they know I care.

I don't require my kids to attend their conferences. It's not Parent/Teacher/Student conference. It's my time to talk about my children behind their backs with other responsible adults conference. I need to be free to discuss my children's wellbeing without their little ears and their little psyches hearing every word. The mystery of the meeting is a plus that is sometimes used to my advantage.

My son's teachers should not be surprised if I bring a fruitcake to the meeting. I think the situation calls for it.


  1. Fruitcake? yeah, apples are so overrated

    I'm with you...the kids shouldn't be in the conference. make'em wonder for the rest of the school year...or at least, until the next conference.

  2. I'll shelter the kid, but he won't like me. I'm a witch.


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