It happened today….a rare teenager spotting.  The boy came home from football practice, did an hour Skype session with an ACT tutor and then, wait for it….went GROCERY SHOPPING with me!  I was on my way out the door when he said “Can I go with you?”  Swoon!

Meet my 17 year old, Mark.  This kid works two jobs, is captain of the football team, is studying like crazy for his ACTs, not to mention, tennis training, open gyms for basketball and, oh yeah, a decent social life, as well.  We don’t get many hours with him these days.  So an hour at the grocery store, plus having him as a captive audience in my car for the 15 minute drive each way, SCORE!

I noticed as soon as we sat down in the car that it has probably been two months since he has ridden shotgun in my car.  I ride with him more than he rides with me.  That has a lot to do with the fact that I don’t have a 14 inch sub in the rear of my Honda Pilot.  So I’m always happy to ride along with him, thumping through town.

But driving him today I realized how many car hours we had logged together before he got his license.  When he was little and we lived in Austin, Texas we had at least two hours together everyday just in traffic.  His first music exposure was Lyle Lovett, Emmylou Harris, Patty Griffin and Warren Zevon.  He would sing the first line of Dirty Life and Times as a little three year old—“Sometimes I feel like my shadow’s casting me”.  He was a very philosophical preschooler 🙂

Fast forward a few years and my little boy was still my copilot.  Road trips to Nevada, Oregon, and Idaho fill my memory.  He always loved to be on the road and he always had new music for me to listen to.  “Mom, listen to this…” was a common theme during these trips.  Some of it I loved, some not so much, but I always saw a little more of who he was becoming through what he was listening to.

So today as we were driving home, the back of the car filled with groceries, I listened carefully to what he played.  Some of it I loved, some I did not, but man I love the kid.  And as long as he says “Mom, listen to this…” you better believe I’ll be tuned in.  Thank you Gap year for slowing me down and opening me up.  Smile and breathe and I’ll talk to you tomorrow xxoo