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.
I had a strange experience yesterday, I went to parents evening with my son. He has recently moved from a boy's school to a girls school for his A levels. It was his choice to make the move and his decision was based on the girl's school being able to offer him the subjects he wanted and a better all round experience. He is one of just half a dozen boys in his year, there are about a dozen in the whole school so the move must have been a bit of a culture shock.
Last night my son and I went to a consultation meeting at school. I am used to the school, my daughters went there, so turning up for parents evening was a fairly ordinary experience - or so I thought. I wasn't prepared for the new experience of going to parents evening with my son. As we walked in there were a number of younger girls there to get people to sign in and to give out various bits of paperwork. It felt like watching meerkats, every head turned in the same direction as he walked past and there was a chorus of girls calling his name and trying to attract his attention. As we left much the same thing happened again and my son gave a small hand gesture of acknowledgement as he walked passed them. He seems to be very happy at his new school, but I just hope it isn't making him big headed!
We went to Sam's parent's evening yesterday but Robbie seemed unable to ignore his phone for more than a minute or two. On the way into the school he was having a text conversation about what train he caught to get home and how long it took him to walk to the station. He put the phone away, but as we were sitting in the classroom listening to a rather pleasing report of Sam's performance in science another text arrived almost silently, if the teacher noticed his suit pocket vibrating he didn't comment on it. As soon as we were back in the corridor he checked his text to find that was yet another colleague asking about the exact make up of a certain train! Robbie had to reply (in detail) before we could go and talk to Sam's English teacher – and they say that men can't multi task!
Robbie is always keen to stress that he is not a train spotter - he just happens to carry around a special notebook to note down train numbers! In order to prove how 'normal' he is he takes every opportunity to tell me about people with stranger obsessions than his own. In the past he has told me about a roundabout spotter, an escalator spotter and last night he told me in detail about a man who is a franking machine spotter. This does not make Robbie seem more normal, it just proves that he has some very odd acquaintances!
