SO there we were, in a seminar room in the Social Sciences department at the University of Warwick , about 20 of us, parents and children gathered round a horseshoe shaped table, eager to see how the department would sell itself to our bright and eager A level students.

A lecturer marched in. He stopped. He glared at us. He looked fierce. He spoke in a strong foreign accent.

"Why do we have parents here?" he demanded, looking at us as if we smelt of something rather disgusting. "It is not my policy to speak to parents."

"Then why did you invite us?" asked one brave mum (not me)

"I," with much emphasis, "did not invite you."

And with that, he turned round and walked out again.

Welcome to university Open Days...

The last time I was at Warwick was when I went for an interview there in 1966. They don't do interviews any more. They do Open Days. They'd offered Smaller Son a place - one of only eight on his particular course, we discovered - so we thought we'd better go and have a look.

Actually, I only went because I didn't trust the lad's car to make it to Coventry, and I was quite prepared to drop him off and collect him later.

"No," he said in that resigned sort of way. "Parents are invited too. You might as well come."

So I did. It's changed a bit in the last 35 years, but the presentation by the head of department was quite interesting, and the comments from students. Then we had a guided tour of the campus, which was about the size of a small town, past theatres, restaurants, sports centres, the Union, accommodation blocks, a little row of shops... Then our student guide wound up the tour and told us we had nearly an hour before we had to be back in the department. Parents and students stood round, looking rather lost, wondering in which of the many places to eat.

Not Smaller Son.

"Quick," he said, "back to the Union."

The reason, I discovered, was that the Union had a Who Wants to Be A Millionaire? machine. "I've always wanted to go on these with you," said the lad. "Between us I reckon we could win the £20."

We couldn't actually - too many questions on 1970s pop groups, which he never knew and I had long since forgotten. But we got some chips and a drink and made a decent stab at it. But then we spotted a Weakest Link machine - Robinson is even more awful in computer simulation - and we were just getting the hang of it.

"Another go?"

"Yeah, go on then."

"One more? "

"Well, we should be back, but..."

So we were about last back for the afternoon session and the chilly welcome from the grumpy lecturer. Still, the parents were all siphoned off into another room and we were all able to ask questions without embarrassing our children, so old Grumpy Socks probably had a point.

Last week Smaller Son went down to York by himself for their Open Day and came back impressed. This week we are going together again, down to Nottingham this time.

Forget about course details and options, accommodation, drop-out rates or employment opportunities, or any of those other intelligent questions we're meant to ask.

If the lecturers don't want to talk to parents this time, I'll just go off and find a Weakest Link machine. Some university staff make even Anne Robinson seem polite...

Published: Thursday, March 21, 2002