A Different Side of Parent Conferences

"Okay, guys.  Let's get started.  How are ya?" my professor stood in front of the class, smiling brightly.

"NOT looking forward to parent conferences," said an outspoken classmate in a bright blue sweater.  "What is WITH these parents?  I have fifteen HOURS of meetings, most for students who are doing fine --"

"Fine, right?!" said another classmate in a burgundy tie and a Burt Reynolds mustache.  "Why do they need a conference when their kids aren't having any problems at -- "

"At ALL!  I mean, it's hard enough dealing with the ones who want to know why their kids are failing -- "

"Whoa, whoa, WHOA!" the poor teacher held her hands up in the same gesture many of us had found ourselves in when the screaming hordes threatened to sack and pillage our lesson plans for the day.  "How many of us are parents?"  Half the hands went up.  "Of kids who get A's and B's?"  Most stayed up.  "Well, look.  Once a year we should be able to show up at school to have someone tell us our kids are brilliant.  Okay?  End of discussion!"

Chastened, we began class . . .