It's amazing what you can do in 45 minutes.

I love when my college aged kids come home for the holidays, but it's around New Years that I develop an eye twitch. They're used to being on their own and I'm used to having some quiet in the house. Questions like "Where are you going?" and "What are you doing?" are met with indifferent shrugs and often include answers like, "I'm used to being independent, Mom". Independent. Somehow their definition includes not having parents breathing down your neck. So...when one of my kids was at the end of his STILL HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS and Mom needs you to GO THE F**K BACK TO COLLEGE period , I tested this independence thing by asking him, the night before, to pack and be ready to go to the airport at 10:45 am the next day.

Seriously, I am all about teaching your kids to be independent...except of course, if you have a serial procrastinator who has a plane to catch.

At 10 am the next day, I strolled in from exercise class to find him sitting on the couch, in his pajamas, watching season 2 of the series 24.

Packed? No. Showered? No. Breakfast? No.

"Two minutes, Mom. I'm almost done. This is the last episode." he said.

I almost pulled a Jack Bauer. "IF YOU MISS THIS PLANE, I'M STICKING YOUR ASS ON A 15 HOUR BUS"  I screamed.

He flew up the stairs. I followed. I watched as he threw all the neatly folded clothes from the laundry basket into his suitcase. Dirty sneakers, included. In went the power cords, the toiletries, it was a major shovez-poo. The only impressive thing was that he was working from a scribbled list. I caved.

"Get in the shower and let me help you." I offered. The bad packing job was pushing all of my buttons.

In 45 minutes, I found everything on his list, which included items found on each floor of my house. I re-packed his suitcase, and made him a big, warm breakfast. "Thanks, Mom. You're the best!" he said as he gave me a big hug and a kiss. I am the biggest sucker. He experienced no stress whatsoever, I, on the other hand, had heart palpitations and would have to drink de-caf coffee the rest of the day.

In the car ride to the airport, he profusely apologized but complimented me on my "awesome" mother skills.

"You should go pro," he said.

Need I say more?