The other day my husband, Casey, asked me how old our eight-year-old son had to be to send him to Albertsons for some fried chicken and a quart of motor oil. He was kidding of course.
Sort of.
We’re within easy walking distance from Albertsons. We’re in a fairly urban but family-friendly “hipster” community. “What are the odds that he’ll get snatched up?” he asked. “The real odds, not the trumped up odds we get from too much 'Law and Order'?”
But it was a joke. Christ, we’d never do that. People would talk.
As parents, we spend a ridiculous amount of time second-guessing the decisions we make for our children, from what kind cereal to feed them in the morning, to what kind of bike helmet to buy them, to what vaccines to give them. Schools, spanking, video games, potty training, car seats, booster seats, front seats. What happened to the days when you could just toss your kids in the back of your rusty pick-up -no seat at all - and head to the beach? (Calm down. I'm not advocating this. I'm just sayin'....)
So Casey and I have decided to move to a deserted island. We plan to raise our kids as superheroes, hone their unique powers, and drop 'em off in Times Square when they're 18 just to see if they've fared any worse for not being shielded from disaster at every turn. We'll send postcards from time to time to let you know how things are going. In the meantime, could you do me a favor?
Take 1 minute to think about any decision you've ever made for your kid that you're pretty sure you made out of duress. Feel free to list more than one if, like me, you second-guess every decision.
Thanks. And stay posted for news from the Island.
Jennifer
