Parent Conferences

My place of employment has the dubious distinction of being the only high school in the area that holds parent conferences. Last night, all the teachers gathered in the commons, set out our gradesheets and waited for parents to show up. Usually the conversation follows this script:

Parent: I'm Eduardo's mom.
Teacher: Hello! Eduardo is such a pleasure to have in class. He still has an A, and is across the board delightful. Everyone loves him and occasionally we spend all class admiring his unique combination of intelligence, charm, popularity, and athleticism. We have decided it is all due to the influence of his mother. Congratulations. I have a plaque with flowers right here for you: Our Madre Número Uno.
Parent: I thought as much.

But sometimes, mom is feeling unbalanced. The kid is failing or (gasp!) has an A-. It's obviously THE TEACHER'S fault. Mom comes in and publicly humiliates new teachers in front of the other parents and her colleagues and students. The teacher then holds back tears as she searches in vain for the restroom (which she cannot find because she is new to the school), and finally hides under a table in the art room to cry quietly.

Not like that happened to me last year or anything.

It wasn't nearly as bad this year. My favorite mom came - she always makes me feel special. The grumpy parents were (rightfully) grumpy at their kids for skipping, not turning junk in, failing tests, etc.

But still. 12 hour days in which the last three are parents... yikes.