My Wednesday buddy rockin’ swim hair.

Wednesdays are my favorite day of the week right now. The only hard commitment in my day, besides the morning fire drill of making breakfasts and lunches for my teens, are guitar lessons for my youngest son.   At 3 o’clock, I battle the high school parking lot to pick up my son for his lesson.

It reminds me of the middle school years when I made a snack, bagel bites or pot stickers before running out to pick up the same son for drum lessons. He needed me a lot then, and I dreaded all the scrambling to make it happen. He gave up drums and took an instrumental break for a year, no pun intended.

My son needs me in a fun way, not a laundry, drive-me-to-swim-practice kind of way. I make it easier on both of us by grabbing a box of sushi, a break from sandwiches for him and a break from making anything for me. He eats his snack during the ten-minute drive to his lesson and chats about his day. Was the early swim practice hard? How about the math test?

While he’s strumming for his teacher, I sit in the comfy waiting room writing or reading for thirty minutes, guilt free. I can’t hear what’s going on as the lesson room is pretty sound proof. I stay focused on my book or blog.

His guitar teacher lets the student pick the music. I suggested to my son he play a few popular songs, even if they are not his favorite. “If you play songs off the radio, you will make girls swoon—not that you need it.” He followed through with a request, one of my favorites “Stitches” by Shawn Mendes. I love that song and I know the girls at school do too as we drove a few to a choir camp-out and they sang along and begged my son to sing too. I would have joined them but my son would turn burning red with embarrassment. I don’t have the pretty voice like a choir girl anyway.

After the lesson, the guitar teacher explodes out of her music studio, happy to see me and share my son’s progress.

She looks at my son and says, “I’m going to talk about you like you are not here.”

Turning to me, she says, “He’s doing great! He’s adorable!” Then in a little quieter voice, “We’re getting him ready.” She winks. I kind of told her about slipping in some popular music and not just Big Head Todd and the Monsters, Boom Boom.

We both walk on clouds as we head to the car. I drive him back to school for swim practice with twenty minutes to spare. Sitting silently together in the warm car, we work on our projects or homework until he swims.  An hour and half whisks by.

Wednesdays are my favorite day.