When Itty Bit was in 3rd grade we battled with her teacher. A stuck up, snot nose bitch who thought her education degree meant she knew my kid better than I did.
At first it was pleasant. A parent-teacher conference where she told me that Itty Bit was sure to fail at life if she didn't buckle down and do her work. I explained that Itty Bit was dealing with a lot at home. We'd only left her dad 6 months before. I also told her Itty Bit was bored. I'm sure they all hear that about some child over the years, but in our case it was true.
Itty Bit followed the course her sister had been on 5 years prior. Education wise, anyway. I knew the signs and I had a pretty good guess as to what would come. I explained that I wasn't overly worried. Yes, it's unfortunate that she won't do the work, but it doesn't mean she doesn't know it. I told her teacher that by the time Itty Bit got to middle school she would probably be in gifted classes. She wasn't going to participate until she was challenged.
This wasn't good enough. I got weekly emails detailing what a disaster my kid was. As time went on, the contact got nastier. A couple more conferences, and the teacher realized she wasn't bending our will. We ended up meeting with the principle and a counselor and the teacher. I was ready to pull my hair out because no one was listening. The principle all but said I was a horrible mother for not forcing Itty Bit into submission.
And what does Itty Bit remember about that year? She hated school. She hated that teacher. Everyone picked on her. They made life hard for her.
Fast forward 3 years and here we are, going into middle school. God damn do I wish I could find those fucktards!
We got her schedule the other day....
Advanced placement Math
Advanced placement Science
Advanced placement English
Itty Bit and I talked about it and laughed, wishing we could tell that teacher, "Told ya so!"
Wouldn't it be wonderful if Itty Bit ended up, somehow, being that woman's boss? All the hassle. All the "I know better, because I'm educated." All the nasty spiteful treatment Itty Bit endured.
And in the end, I'm right. Because I am not a horrible mother. I know my kid. I know she's smart. I knew she would excel eventually.
Told ya so, fucking cunt!