Freaky Friday on a Monday

One of our main goals in life, Jim and I, is to raise responsible and loving children. I will tell you right now there are days when I believe we're on the right track, and days that I question our children will ever be ready to leave the nest. Each of our three teenagers has an alarm clock in his or her room, but I still wake them up on school mornings. What can I say? I enjoy tiptoeing into their rooms and taking a fleeting glimpse at their angelic faces before I wake the sleeping monster who growls because 6:15 a.m. arrived much too soon for their liking.

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LOS ANGELES, CA - We've taught them how to clean the house, do the laundry, mow the grass, etc. Usually, Jim and I serve as the educators. On one particular Monday in November 2010 however, I was the student.

I'll set the scene, not that it really matters, but sometimes it helps to know what led up to the event I like to call "Freaky Friday on a Monday." Christopher, our 17-year-old (and honestly the one whom I most worry will not be ready to leave the nest in a timely fashion), was to work as a lifeguard from 3:15 to about 6:15 p.m. His shift actually went from 3:15 to 8:15 p.m., but he found someone to take the last two hours. You see, Monday, Nov. 14 was his swimming and diving banquet. Christopher is a senior, and we were so proud of him. He worked hard during his senior year and qualified to dive at the state swimming and diving championships. He was looking forward to his senior banquet - the last banquet of his high school career and did the right thing by finding someone to come in and take his shift. Sort of. Evidently he was supposed to sign a shift change, and the young man who was to finish his shift was supposed to sign it, too. That didn't happen, and when the young man didn't show up Monday evening to take Christopher's shift, the head guard, Jessica, told Chris he would have to stay and finish his shift.

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So, I got a call from my husband, who was picking up our son at work. I'm not sure how it happened, maybe through the cell phone or something. It seems that in an instant I turned into a 17-year-old, full of hot air and attitude. I hung up with Jim and immediately called the pool and asked for the guard room. Poor Jessica had the incredible misfortune of answering the phone and politely took an earful. I did not yell, but I did express my intense frustration.

'It is very frustrating to know that Christopher did the right thing and has to suffer for it,' I told her. I then proceeded to ask her to get her supervisor, who was evidently in a meeting. So I asked Jessica to find out if anything could be done and to call me back. Meanwhile, people were eating dinner inside the Trigg Banquet Center. Time crawled by and the 17-year-old within me grew more and more angry.

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My phone rang and my son, Christopher was on the other end of the receiver.

'Mom,' he said, sounding much older than his 17 years. 'It's o.k. I didn't fill out the paperwork, and I have to stay and finish my shift.'

What? Why wasn't this child throwing a hissy fit? His 45-year-old mother was, after all, and this apple didn't fall far from the tree.

Long story short(er), Jim ate dinner with me at Christopher's banquet, and went back to pick him up at 8:15 p.m. The coach and Marvell, the banquet organizer, switched the schedule around a bit so that Chris didn't miss any of the awards. He was even able to indulge in a bit of cake!

I kissed my 6'3" senior on his forehead when it was over and told him I was proud that he stuck around to finish his shift. We all fell into our beds thoroughly exhausted that night and somewhere in dreamland, I morphed back into my 45-year-old self and Chris into his 17-year old self. How did I figure that one out? Tuesday morning. My sleeping angel sat up in bed at 6:15 a.m., waited until I went downstairs, and then pulled the covers back over his head and procrastinated until the last possible second.

Well, at least things are back to normal.

To the staff at the Renaud Spirit Center: your customer service training has paid off well. Jessica did an outstanding job handling this frustrated 17-year-old in a 45-year-old's body. And to Jessica: thank you for choosing to remain calm and do your best to help. I sincerely apologize for my behavior and ask your forgiveness. To mothers of teenagers everywhere: yes, our goal is to kick them out of the nest at a reasonable age, confident that they are ready for the world. Isn't it nice when they give us a glimpse of that before they leave?

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