h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Here I am, in the school computer lab. The reason I am here is that my mother is having parent/teacher interviews at this very moment about 50 metres away from me. With my maths teacher right now. This is the kind of thing that gets a student quite worried.
I am worried that one (or indeed all) of my teachers will tell my parents that I am an idiot, or that I am too talkative, or just plain bad. I know that this won't happen, but it still makes me nervous to know that they are talking about me.
I am surrounded by other students going through the same line of thought as me. Well, I presume it's the same line of thought. One would think so under these circumstances.
Ah! My mother has been with the dreaded maths teacher for a whole three minutes! Oh the things they could have said by now!
I also hope dearly that my mother does not reveal anything about me to my teachers. I know this is extremely unlikely, as my mother is a kind and wonderful person, but, it would indeed be dreadful for her to be telling my teachers that I still cuddle teddies. Or some other enbarassing habit of mine. Not that cuddling teddies is a bad thing ... of course not! They're cute!
Oh well. Only time will tell what they are talking about.
However, this particular maths teacher has gotten himself into my bad books, not the other way round.
About one month ago, I had a geography test. Now this test was rather easy, i though, and I finished it before my classmates. Bored, i got out my pens and began to write a poem, a parody of "The Night Before Christmas". It was pure brilliance that poem, never had I seen the likes of it. Beautiful!
Later that day, in Maths, I showed my friend Ella my poem. As she handed it back to me, it was confiscated by the Evil Maths Teacher. "I say!" Say I, "That's my poem! It's brilliant, you can't take it!" But alas. "Oh can't I?" says he. I whined, I harped, I pleaded, begged, and bargained, but he would not be moved and kept the poem. My only hope is that he doesn't publish it as his own work. That would be just too much.
The brilliance of it could not be repeated. I couldn't remember the last few verses, so upset was I.
Oh well. It matters not.
The moral of this story is : Give your teachers something to remember about you. Be yourself in class. Don't treat them as though they are bullies, for if you do they will bully you. Treat them as people. Even though they're not really.