Crash Course

She then kneels down and grabs another bit of sweat shirt.

"It is 9:43 a.m., two minutes before second period ends," Lobdell continues.

The next woman, playing Andy's honors English teacher, approaches: "Remember, class, you have to finish our novel, Great Expectations, tonight," she says. "We'll discuss it tomorrow so you'll be ready for the essay I'm assigning tomorrow."

She grabs a piece of the sweat shirt.

Andy's "day" finally ends at 7:57 p.m. at his church youth group, where the woman playing his youth pastor reminds him about the big ski trip next weekend -- and then grabs more of Labberton's sweat shirt.

By this point, a dozen people are crouched on their knees, each holding a piece of the Stanford sweat shirt. It's just pretend, but Labberton is starting to look a bit alarmed. She shifts her feet to adjust her balance so she doesn't tip over and fall into the group. Around the room, the eight remaining moms and dads are smiling as they take in the silly scene.

"I want to ask the audience how they think Andy feels?" Lobdell asks.

The parents, sitting around long rectangular tables arranged to form a giant square with a space in the middle, look at one another, then back at Lobdell.

"Overwhelmed,'' says one mom, taking in the spectacle in front of her.

"No control,'' pipes up a middle-school dad from Dallas, sitting a few chairs away.

Lobdell lets the comments sink in for a moment and then poses a question to the group: "If we were to invite Andy's parents into this, where would they be?"

From their startled expressions, it's clear some in the room hadn't even realized the parents were missing from the equation.