Friday, October 31, 2008

Role Supermodel

The youngest had his school conference last night. The Lovely Bride wasn't able to attend so that left dear old Dad to handle it. For some reason he always thinks I'm going to embarrass him at these things and he wasn't reassured when E., his best friend's dad, offered to go with us.

"We'll tell the teacher I'm your other daddy," E. said.

My son closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"And we'll bring E.'s son and tell the teacher he's your pet," I added.

"Then we'll go to my kid's conference and do the same thing," said E.

"This is going to be the best conference ever," I said.

My son finally opened his eyes and twitched a couple times. "Shut up," he suggested.

The conference went fine. He has excellent grades and his standardized test scores are excellent as well. It must be my influence, as I told my mother when I called her to report in.

"I very much doubt that," she said.

"What a horrible, hurtful thing to say," I replied. "I'm having trouble breathing I'm so upset. Did my children ask you to kill me?"

"No jury would convict them if they did," she said. "Nevertheless, this does not at all sound like one of your conferences."

"Why are you lying?"

"Would you like me to recite what they told us at every conference for most of your school career? 'Snag is a very bright child who is not achieving to his potential.'"

"That's because I didn't have a good role model at home. My kids are luckier than I was, fortunately."

"Are you saying we were not good role models for you?" she asked.

"You tried," I said. "It's just that it was hard for me growing up in a household where people couldn't read or write."

"What are you going on about?"

"You know. Like that time the neighbors had to witness your mark when you signed the deed to the house with an X."

"Don't be ridiculous. Your father and I both went to very good colleges."

"Sure, because you're athletes. That doesn't mean you went to class. Weren't you the first woman in the country to get a boxing scholarship?"

"Have you bumped your head recently?"

"Not since the last time you threw an uppercut at me."

"Put the Lovely Bride on the phone. I need to speak with her."

"She's not here. Just me and the boys."

"God help them," said my mother.

2 comments:

rotten mcdonald said...

God help us all.

The zombies are outside....

Righteous Bubba said...

What do you do when your kid's teacher keeps touching you? I've been told punching is inappropriate.