I have attended many conferences in my day, and I've come to the conclusion that they are all pretty much the same. Well, all except for parent/teacher conferences.

Last week, I attended a parent/teacher conference. In attendance were six people -- me and five middle school teachers - all trying to determine if my son's bizarre behavior could somehow be attributed to my incompetence as a mother. I don't know what the consensus was, but I had history on my side. My oldest son was the most absurd child on the planet, but he graduated 7th in his high school class and graduated magna cum laude from college. Then he landed a plum job as a biological researcher.

My middle-schooler shows the same tendencies for weirdness and is taking an identical path. I was not concerned. The teachers were puzzled, but that's okay. In my opinion, they needed to move on to a kid who was perfectly "normal" but didn't know how to "carry the one".

In the same week, my husband and I attended a speaker's conference as well. In attendance were about 150 of the best speakers in the state with the exception of me and my husband. This conference delivered food and entertainment which was incidentally, something the parent/teacher conference did not offer.

My husband showed up for the food and I showed up for the entertainment. Perhaps parent/teacher conferences would not be so intimidating if they at least offered coffee and hors d'louvres. I would have been willing to stick around and discuss my son's strange habits until the cows came home, if there was food.

The speaker's conference was exciting. There were balloons decorating every available spot. The chandeliers were festooned with white Christmas lights and looked like the holiday nests for a flock of pterodactyls. I think they call that "artsy".

Unless you knew who Stephen Covey was, the table centerpieces would have been a mystery. They were glass jars filled with rocks and sand. My husband was bemused, but as long as the centerpiece was not representative of the menu for the evening, he thought it was just fine.

For dinner, they served what my husband and I call "Function Chicken," which is something that is served at almost every conference except parent/teacher events. It consists of a boneless breast of chicken covered in some sauce, with rice pilaf and a vegetable medley. Function Chicken. The salad, however, was unique. The only way I can describe it is: pecans and gorgonzola crumbles topped with grass clippings. I ate my nuts and cheese, but the grazing material was suspect. It looked a little like mistletoe and I wasn't sure whether I was supposed to eat it or pin it to my lapel.

Evidently, this was a very classy joint. Only classy joints serve unrecognizable food and hire servers who speak fluent Mexican, but not a lick of English. I needed more water, so I rooted around my brain for the Spanish word for water. By the time "agua" presented itself, the waitress had already flitted on to the next table. Brilliant marketing plan, I thought. If the customers could not ask for anything, the hotel saves tons of money.

My husband asked if there would be dessert. I pointed to the third fork and explained, "This fork says there will be dessert."

He looked at the fork, then back at me, puzzled. "Does it say it will be apple pie?"

"No, but it says it won't be ice cream or sherbet."

As it turns out, it was a huge piece of cheesecake with a tiny dollop of whipped cream, which was on the side. I suppose that was to accommodate those people who were on a diet.

The food was adequate, the company stimulating, and the entertainment…well, it was entertaining; which was more than I can say for the parent/teacher conference.

-- You can reach Laura at lsnyder@lauraonlife.com Or visit her Web site www.lauraonlife.com for more columns and info about her books.