Yeah, that parental expectation thing can be a real bastard.
I did fairly well at pencil and paper tests as a kid in England in the 1950s. Well enough that my failures to participate verbally and to socialise went unnoticed.
My dad - being aspie as well but buried even deeper in the "if I practice till I get it right then things will be OK" sort of idiom - changed jobs with some frequency. That led to sufficiently frequent changes of schools for anything more serious than continued high scores and skipped years to continue unnoticed.
IQ scores back then, before a lifetime of gritted teeth and disappointment wore me down, were around the 168 sort of mark, depending a bit on what skills the test focussed on.
In Australia, having been admitted to university at sixteen, failed miserably, survived a year or two as a dropout (poet, musician, fast mover: hell, it was the sixties. No, seventies...) and then lined up once again at the university entrance gates, I joined Mensa. As I recall it, I made it through only one meeting before abandoning the concept.