My Son Acted Like Bobby Knight This Week- Part 2

I broke this post up into 2 so it didn’t turn out to be a book. If you didn’t read part 1, here it is: My Son Acted Like Bobby Knight. If you don’t want to read it, basically my son is in BIG trouble and we had to have an impromptu meeting with teachers.

After dropping off my youngest son to a friend’s house, we were off to the worst parent-teacher conference we have surely ever had. Once in the parking lot, my husband and I got out. P didn’t.

“Dude get out,” I said.

“No thank you, I’m good.” He responded, as if I had just offered him another spoonful of mashed potatoes.

“This isn’t an option,” I said firmly.

Begrudgingly, he pulled on the lever and hopped out.

Once inside, I rang the doorbell awaiting the usual Secretary to buzz me in. I stood there as if the door would magically open. 10 seconds later, my husband pulled on the door beside us that are never unlocked to allow passage.

‘I feel so decadent’ I thought, not having to be paraded through the office, sign a form then slap a visitor pass on my shirt that, without fail, sticks to 10 of my hairs. I don’t notice this till I’m removing my badge and rip all 10 hairs out.

As previously mentioned, this conference was to be with his teacher and the Intern ONLY. In reality, they felt this meeting required the following attendees:

  • The Intern
  • The Homeroom Teacher
  • The Math Teacher
  • The Science Teacher
  • The Music Teacher

What the fuck?’ I thought. Was this really necessary? He didn’t throw a cat, he lied twice and has been a jerk this week. It needs dealt with but the Music Teacher? Really?

As we went around the half moon table sitting in our fun-size chairs, I realized I had not met the Science Teacher yet and she was the only teacher my son wasn’t fond of. I was giving her the evil eye in my mind while smiling sweetly at her.

‘This is it,’ I thought, ‘this will be what makes my son hate school.’ He will now go goth at the tender age of 10 and shut down completely.

I felt sorry for him as he sat in the middle with both of us on each side, facing the math teacher who wasn’t supposed to be there yet had quickly taken the role of Cruise Director. Cruise Director began to go on and on about how normally P has positive behavior but then it goes out the door in certain teacher’s classes.

‘There probably shitty teachers,’ I thought.

Then Music Teacher and her turtle neck decided to chime in. She had nothing of value to contribute and her “examples” were vague at best. She’s the type of person that probably joined P.E.T.A at some point, smokes pot frequently and has a disdain for ambition. After a few minutes, I got the feeling she just didn’t like my son.

After about 20 minutes of the teachers telling all of their super stories about how my son has screwed up in one way, shape or form, I wanted to take him in my arms while clawing all of their eyes out simultaneously. Again, P needed reprimanded/punished but this intervention like set up was idiotic at best for the crime.

So now that my son is scarred for life, he has fallen asleep upstairs with a book in his hand. His punishment? Well, he’s going to be Amish for the next 3 days. No phone, no Chromebook, video games or tv. I can only hope he doesn’t put black nail polish on the grocery list this weekend.




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