The Character Everyone Forgets NCIS's Mark Harmon Played In Freaky Friday

Helmed by "Mean Girls" and "Vampire Academy" director Mark Stephen Waters, 2003's "Freaky Friday" was a film that fearlessly stared down the barrel of societal norms. "No," it firmly stated, drawing a line in the proverbial sand of society's expectations. "Fortune cookies aren't safe. They'll make you and your mom do a switcheroo."

In this particular case, the switcheroo in question is inflicted upon Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsay Lohan, an uptight mom and a too cool teenager, respectively. Like countless Disney backed Kafka-esque nightmares that came before, this one would have to be solved through the magic of appreciating their family.

Only this time, it wouldn't be so simple. This time, the romantic ramifications of a teenager Quantum Leaping into her mother's body were on full display. This time, a child's brain trapped in an adult frame would be forced to fend off the romantic advances of a middle-aged man with no idea what kind of traumas he was accidentally inflicting. What's more, said middle-aged man was Mark Harmon.

Few characters in popular culture are as unsung and emotionally battered as the clueless third leg of a body swap. Doomed to spend the second and third acts of a story in a state of perpetual confusion and frustration, they rarely receive the explanation that they deserve: "It's not that I don't love you, it's just that my child's soul possessed my body so that I could learn to be a better mom."

In the case of 2003's "Freaky Friday," the worst suffering party is Ryan Volvo, played by "NCIS" star Mark Harmon. Already struggling with the pressures of becoming a stepfather, he's suddenly thrust into a world where the woman he intends to marry won't do kissing with him and acts suspiciously like a Lindsay Lohan character. It's the pits. The absolute pits. It's the sort of experience that would make most men give up on the idea of family altogether and devote themselves to thoughtful boat building in their basements and the pursuit of justice for fellow human beings wronged by forces beyond their control. It might even be psychologically scarring enough that the guy in question would change his name to Jethro Gibbs and lie about his backstory to all of his coworkers in order to better divorce himself from the senseless agony of his real life.

You don't have to like it. We're full-on invested in this theory now.