Thursday was my son's parents evening, an event that neither of us were looking forward to very much. I was just anxious about getting to each appointment on time but he was anxious about what they would say about him and even more anxious about what I might say. As we drove towards the school he began his lecture, I must not say anything embarrassing, I must not make comments about the teachers and I must not under any circumstances talk to any of his friends or their parents. I have never set out to be an embarrassment to my children, but it seems that it comes naturally!
As we got out of the car he cast a critical eye over my choice of clothing and suggested that I should leave my coat in the car! I assured him that there was nothing wrong with my coat and I suggested that he should pay more attention to his own clothes. We signed in and I noticed fascinated that the 'merekat effect' is still in evidence. As one of only a handful of boys at a girl's school it is not surprising that he turns heads. What is more surprising is that he seems completely oblivious of the rows of heads popping up following him with their eyes as he passes.
We sat in the library looking around and waiting for our turn to speak to his psychology teacher. The room was busy with teachers sitting at tables around the edge of the room, with chairs in the centre of the room for the people waiting for their turn to talk to a teacher. Most of the teachers were busy talking to parents and students, but one or two were sitting there all alone. I quietly asked my son who was the 'billy no mates' sitting opposite us looking miserable. I received a glare in reply and an instruction to stop being embarrassing. I couldn't resist teasing him just a bit, it's fun being an embarrassment to your offspring. I pointed out that judging by his glasses, the chap in question seemed to have been taking fashion advice from Brains on Thunderbirds. My son tried hard to keep a straight face, but failed miserably, then with a sly grin he announced that 'Billy no mates' really was called Bill. Then it was time for us to see the teacher and his smile vanished again.
I think it came as a surprise to my son that each of his subject teachers were very pleased with his progress and they had lots of good things to say about him. I was impressed with the change I could see in my son, he has always been bright, but this school has nurtured him as an individual and given him confidence to be himself rather than just being one of many. He was very lucky to get into this school, I know some people thought I was mad to let him change schools for the sixth form, but it was the best decision we ever made.
On Friday and Saturday Robbie was on his best behaviour because he really wanted to go 'out to play' on Sunday. Robbie being extra nice is certainly better than Robbie in a strop, but it is still fairly challenging because it seems to send his brain into overdrive and he bombards me with daft ideas and constant questions. On Friday he made me stop in the dog food section at the supermarket while he explained exactly how he wanted to reorganise our bedroom, interesting ideas but why did he have to choose that moment?
On Saturday morning he cuddled up to me and asked “do you ever wonder why the fluff that collects in your belly button is always blue?” I can honestly say that I have never considered the matter, but that wouldn't be a good enough answer for Robbie so I told him that it was a chemical reaction when the fluff was close to the skin for too long – he believed me for at least ten minutes!
A little later at a time when it would have been reasonable to expect his full attention he announced that there was something that he had never understood, he then asked “what is anti pasta?” I told him that judging by the way he pronounced it, it was probably a militant organisation that disliked Italian food! By then the 'moment' was lost, so I explained that he probably meant antipasto and as far as I knew it was an appetiser offered at the start of a meal. I don't like foreign food so I am not really the best person to ask about such things.
He got through most of the afternoon without incident, but only because he was saving himself for a seriously tactless random comment. That evening I was standing in the kitchen cooking while Robbie was washing up, when he suddenly asked “do you think you will have the menopause soon?”. I was tempted to answer it with my own question and ask if he thought he would need stitches today, but listening to him trying to dig himself out of trouble was so entertaining that I forgave him!
