Dear Parent,

If you don't care, neither will I.

You see, I've been trying to get you to talk to me about my concerns for your child. I've done everything I could in the last four months, short of drive to your house and knock on your door.

After three parent-teacher conferences that you've scheduled and then have pulled a no-show every single time, I realize that you expect me to raise your child for you.

Well guess what. That's not my job. And be happy it isn't.

If I raised your kid for you, he'd be on the psychiatric meds and receiving the mental health services he desperately needs.

If I raised your kid for you, he wouldn't have that crappy attitude and overinflated sense of self-worth that you have instilled in him.

If I raised your kid for you, I wouldn't be getting calls from the dean's office about how he endangered the lives of his classmates during a hard lockdown by pounding on the walls.

If I raised your kid for you, you could darn well guarantee that I would have put my foot up his ass long before now.

None of this "my son is a good boy" crap. Jeffrey Dahmer's mom said the same thing. They're all good boys until they bring a gun to school and shoot the place up.

I'm tired of the blame game. I'm tired of parents taking zero responsibility for their kids and for foisting all of the blame onto teachers.

You had the kids. Raise them your own damn self, and do it right.

Because believe me, if you can't take care of them, prison will be doing it for you soon enough. And you will not deserve nor receive any of my pity, sympathy or care then.