So. It’s my son’s 10th birthday and he’s having his first sleepover.
Except. One of his friends has never been allowed to spend the night away from home. That’s cool. Not all kids are ready  for sleepovers at 10. But he so wanted to stay.

Yet this is the deal. My 17 and 14 year-old sons took the sleepover kids to play Night Tag at the park, one block away from our house.  My teens are big boys— one a football player, and they have a cell phone. We’ve lived in this neighborhood for 16 years and never had any problems with our kids playing at the park. It’s only 7:30, but we just got a call from the dad of the kid who’s not allowed to sleepover. He heard from another parent that the kids are at the park without an adult and he’s on his way to pick up his son.

“Spokane is a dangerous city,” he said. “My son only weighs 60 pounds.” What?

My husband walked over and brought the kid back to our house and my sweet birthday boy came home with him. “I can play night tag any time,” he said.

I feel so bad for this child. He’s the oldest of three. We’ve known him since he was five. His parents know us pretty well— my husband is the boys soccer coach. Yet these parents seem to base every decision out of fear. And now I’m worried about this boy, growing up in the midst of such fear.

Am I way off base? This is my fourth son, after all. Maybe I would have been as worried with my oldest. But I’m concerned about this boy, who felt bad enough being the only kid not allowed to spend the night, and now is heartbroken at having not being able to enjoy the park.

Can children truly thrive in such fear-based atmosphere?