Aside from the occasional mutant tuna-on-white, I don't think I brought anything else to school. I do not recall any adult helping me with homework. I did not need to seek my mother's notarized signature to prove that I had spent 63 minutes reading Chapters 6-9 of Lord of the Flies. I do not remember my mother sweating it out in the morning, veins bulging in her forehead, with checklists of items for each of my brothers and me to bring to school. In fact, I did not even own a backpack until college. So what went wrong in the last quarter of the 20th century that turned parents into virtual dispensaries of advice and items to enhance their child's learning?