By Stephanie Ellison

Parenting is weird. One minute you’re teaching life lessons, and the next you’re wondering if you’ve accidentally created a core memory your child will discuss with a therapist twenty years from now. This is one of those stories.

Our 14-year-old daughter has recently discovered the ancient teenage art form known as prank calling. Now, before you start imagining harmless classics like, “Is your refrigerator running?” or “Do you have Prince Albert in a can?” let me stop you right there. These girls have elevated prank calling into something much more theatrical. One day she’s an actress. The next she’s from another planet. Sometimes she has an accent. Sometimes she has an elaborate backstory. Honestly, if Broadway ever needs a group of committed teenage performers, she’s ready.

A while back, I told her, “Listen, I would really prefer that you not prank call people at all. But if you’re going to ignore my excellent parenting advice and continue your life of crime, at least block your number.” I wasn’t endorsing the behavior. I was simply acknowledging that I cannot physically supervise a teenager every second of every day. Unfortunately, she apparently heard the first part and completely missed the second.

A few days later, I received a text from a friend I hadn’t spoken to in quite some time. She asked how I was doing. I replied that I was doing great and asked how she was. Her response was immediate: “Are you sure?” That’s never a comforting question. Confused, I asked what she meant. She explained that a friend of hers had called because she was concerned about me. Apparently someone had contacted her saying that my husband was cheating on me and that I had been crying to people about it.

I stared at my phone trying to process this information. I informed her that I had not been crying to anyone, I was not aware that my husband was cheating on me, and more importantly, my husband was not aware that he was cheating on me either. The whole thing was becoming increasingly confusing. I asked if she could send me more information, who called, what number they called from, and what time the call happened. As she provided details, puzzle pieces slowly began falling into place.

I texted my daughter. “Have you been prank calling today?” Her response was, “What do you mean?” Parents everywhere know that answer. It’s not a denial. It’s simply a request for more information before deciding how much truth should be revealed.

The moment I told my husband what had happened he looked at me and said, “We have got to do something.” Friends, that sentence was the beginning of one of the worst and best parenting decisions we’ve ever made.

When we picked our daughter up from a friend’s house later that night, my husband was already committed to the plan. The moment she climbed into the car, he pretended to be on the phone with his boss. The conversation did not sound promising. He was apologizing, defending himself, and asking for a chance to explain. Then he hung up and sat quietly.

I looked at him and asked, “Who was that?” He sighed dramatically and replied, “My boss.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“I’ve been relieved of my duties because apparently people are saying I’m having an affair.”

Our daughter, whom I could see in my peripheral vision, immediately sat up straighter.

I looked at him in disbelief and asked, “An affair? When exactly were you planning to tell me about this?”

Without missing a beat, my husband replied, “I don’t even want to know what your reaction would be if that were true.”

Honestly, fair.

As the conversation continued, I mentioned that I’d asked for the phone number involved and that a screenshot had been sent. The number matched the one used during the prank calls. I said each number out loud slowly.  By the look on her face our daughter recognized it immediately. The color drained from from her cheeks as her eyes began to sweat.

For the rest of the drive, she barely spoke. She stared out the window while my husband and I continued discussing the terrible situation that had supposedly unfolded because of misinformation. By the time we reached our neighborhood, she asked if she could walk the rest of the way home. Her eyes were full of tears.

The second she shut the car door, my husband and I looked at each other. We didn’t feel victorious. We felt awful. We immediately started questioning whether we had gone too far. Yet at the same time, we couldn’t ignore the lesson. Rumors spread. People believe things. Caller ID exists. Actions have consequences.

When we got home, she was still crying. Not the kind of crying that comes from being caught. Not angry tears. Genuine heartbreak. She was devastated. Finally she admitted what she thought had happened. She believed she had caused her father to lose his job because of a prank call.

That was the moment the whole thing stopped being funny.

Meanwhile, we discovered that her friends were also panicking. They had apparently been trying to figure out how to save our family from financial ruin. They were discussing solutions and rescue plans and genuinely felt terrible. It was both incredibly sweet and slightly alarming.

My husband eventually took her on a walk, and when they returned, both of us knew we couldn’t let it continue. We sat her down and told her the truth. It was a prank. A terrible, awful, highly effective prank.

The irony was not lost on anyone. The prank callers had officially been prank called.

She immediately called her friends and told them the truth. Everyone survived. Nobody lost a job. Nobody’s marriage was ending. Thankfully, nobody had to start a GoFundMe for our family.

The next day another mom texted me. “Wait… was Danny really going to get fired?”

I replied, “No.”

She responded, “Oh thank goodness. My daughter was absolutely devastated.”

Which is when I realized we hadn’t just traumatized our own child. We had accidentally traumatized multiple households.

Not our finest parenting moment. But perhaps a memorable one.

The moral of the story? Teenagers, stop prank calling people. Parents, be careful when teaching life lessons because sometimes you accidentally commit a little too fully to the bit. Also, for the love of all things holy, if you’re going to ignore your mother’s advice and become a prank caller, at least understand that caller ID exists.

Someone out there needed one of those lessons today. I’m just not entirely sure who.

P.S. Don’t follow me for more parenting tips.