Today, my boys asked to go to the local store on their own. We never forbade it or anything -- it just hadn't come up yet. My younger boy is eight and the older one is ten. The store is three-quarters of a mile down the road that runs through the middle of our town. I had no doubts about their finding it. It's just that they never went there alone before. I thought it over and finally gave the go-ahead.
My older son took his bike and, the younger, his scooter. Off they went.
After a few minutes, and echoing the numerous parenting parables about this sort of thing, I jumped in the car and followed, in secret. What I wanted to know, mostly, was how long it would take them to get there so I would have an idea how long it
should take, for future reference.
I won't lie: it was kind of fun. I zigged and zagged through the neighborhood, taking up secret positions to watch them pass. When they got to the store, I waited until they came back out and then headed home, confident they would be fine. They seemed to have stopped at the cross streets on the way -- that kind of thing.
 |
The questing parent, Marlin,
enduring Dory's whale song, from
Pixar's Finding Nemo |
See, I believe "helicopter parenting" is one of the worst things in the modern world. But I also believe one can never be too careful with one's kids in the modern world. Every precaution must be taken. What's the difference between my secret mission and "helicopter parenting"? With helicopter parents, the kids are fully aware of the protection they are under. In fact, they rely on it; that's the damaging factor.
