As I sat in the audience, watching my son walk across the stage and pick up his diploma, I began to feel sick. I mean really awful.

The thought flitted through my mind that I might be suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. My 18-year-old son has a certain reputation. He likes to have his fun. It's been a long 12 years.

All the way through elementary, middle school and high school, it's been a challenge to keep my lively son on the right side of the authorities. He is legendary for some of his high-spirited antics.

In fact, three days before graduation, the school bells mysteriously failed to ring. My son said that,one by one, members of the school administration quietly sought him out and asked if he'd had anything to do with it.
(The answer was no. This time of year, most teachers and principals are too busy and too tired to see the humor in that kind of prank. And the boy knew he had to keep his nose clean...)

Anyway, turns out my nerves weren't shot. It was just a 24-hour virus. I'm beginning to feel a little better.

But I can't help but wonder if any of his teachers are showing the same symptoms. Maybe we all have PTSD. Otherwise known as Put (Robert) Through School Disorder.

Nah, I'm sure it's just a virus...