Another day, another teacher

Am I the only person who, when the phone rings and the caller i.d. shows one of the school numbers, looks at the phone for a couple of rings while weighing the choices of answering now or letting the machine pick it up (thus, delaying the inevitable)?
I was the proud recipient of a teacher call today. And yesterday. Different teachers. Different kids. The teacher who called today is out to win my soul, or so it would seem. She sounds young. Very, very young. And very, very idealistic. My son should drain every drop of that idealism out of her body before the end of the semester. She called a few weeks ago and ended the conversation with me pretty much saying, "Good luck to you and God speed". She seemed a little put off. I think she thought I would jump on the bandwagon and assure her that this kid would turn his study habits around (OK wait --- that, in and of itself is SOOOO hilarious!! The words 'study habits' would seem to indicate that some amount of studying was being done. hahahahahhahahahahahaha --- sorry, back to the story) and start making passing grades. What. Ev. Er. I informed her that, yes, I knew his grades weren't the best and that yes, I agreed that he needed to study more. I then told her that if she could find the magic pill for that I'd see to it that she got a raise (well, my hubby is the president of the school board, after all -- I should be allowed to offer teacher incentives, shouldn't I?!). She didn't seem to find one iota of humor in that sentence. Poor young, idealistic, starry-eyed little 20-something. I almost feel sorry for her. You see, she has yet to learn what it took me almost 15 years to learn: there are certain people in this world who cannot be "made" to do anything, let alone study. Yes, you can try to make their lives miserable, you can ground them for weeks at a time, you can remove all of the "fun" things they possess, you can even threaten them with great bodily harm. But when push comes to shove (and it might!) they will still be standing, stubbornness oozing out of their pores, while you are lying at their feet - drained, exhausted and totally powerless.
So, though I say "study" on a daily basis, can I stand over him and make sure that he's actually applying his brain and learning something? Nope -- he's in control.
And I am getting better and better at being OK with that.
Because I know that one of these days, when he's tired of making minimum wage, he's going to say, "You were right, Mom."
Hey, a girl can dream, can't she?
P.S. This is only a dream because here's what's really going to happen:
He'll graduate high school by the skin of his teeth (or by the teachers making sure he doesn't get to come back!), he'll choose not to go to college and then he'll decide to pursue his dream of opening a tattoo parlor in NYC (I kid you not) or the other dream of being a rock star. Then he will end up making more money than Bill Gates and I'll have to say, "You were right, Son." :)