that's life Earning extra points

LITTLE ROCK — I was up to my eyeballs in work at the newspaper in Little Rock at 5:40 p.m. Wednesday when my older son called me.

"Mom, are you going to parent-teacher conferences?" he asked.

"When are they?" I asked, knowing full well what the answer was going to be.

"Tonight. But, that's OK. I get 25 extra points in Med-Pro if you go, but don't worry about it. I have a 97 in there anyway."

I hung up and quickly weighed the pros and cons. Not go, continue to work and feel like the worst mother in the world. One who chose work over my kid. Yeah, that'd be nice to remember on my death bed.

Drive like a maniac and hope I got there without killing myself, get the kid points and see the chemistry teacher, a class where John definitely does not have a 97.

I grabbed my bag, coat and umbrella and headed out.

I drove like a maniac. OK, like I always do. I figured if I got stopped, what cop wouldn't give a great mom like me a break, once I explained my son's educational career could be on the line?

I imagined having a wreck and how guilty John would feel. Not that I'd want him to, you understand, but I'm dramatic like that. I imagined John sobbing at the funeral, telling everyone his mom was just trying to make it to his parent-teacher conferences.

I tried to think of witty things to say to the teachers (in case there were extra points for that).

I fished around in my purse while driving 80 down the interstate. (Don't worry - I'm a trained professional.) I dropped my favorite lipstick somewhere, and settled for another color that I don't like.

I kept trying to find the first tube, because I imagined the chemistry teacher telling John, "I was going to give you extra points for your mother coming, but she had on this garish lipstick."

I pulled into the parking lotwith 20 minutes left of the conferences.

There were two people in front of me at the Med-Pro class. I waited impatiently.

When it was my turn, the teacher said, "What can I say about John? His writing skills blow me away. He's so ready for college."

Well, that was worth a speeding ticket right there. I wanted to stand and bask in the glow, but there was still the dreaded chemistry teacher.

I imagined him with a craggy face, wearing a lab coat, and bottles of green potion on his desk.

I ran from one building tothe next, shouting at random people as I passed them, "Dr. White? Chemistry?"

I went around in a circle in the hub, dizzy by the time some student pointed out I'd passed Dr. White's class. I ran and sort of skidded up to the door. Think Kramer on Seinfeld. With a purse.

The teacher was just finishing up with other parents.

He had on normal clothes. He had a nice, smooth face.

He was interesting. He complimented John's demeanor and sense of humor, but suggested he ask more questions in class.

I left feeling pretty good.

I got home and realized I'd missed my younger son's conferences.

Do I get half credit?