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The Boy got to ride his bike to the park - and I'll let him do it again

My son had a friend sleep over a few weeks ago. After playing half the night and morning, they were getting a little restless in the house.

It was a typical Seattle fall day: threats of rain, but so far, it was dry. I told him to head outside to play, thinking he and his buddy would burn some steam that way.

"Mom, can we go to the park?" he asked me.

The park is half a mile away. The easiest route there means the kid only has to cross one small street, but a whole lot of driveways. After a quick consultation with The Boy's friend's mom, I said, "Yes, you guys can ride your bikes to the park."

He couldn't contain his excitement. "Woo-hoo!!!" he yelled. Immediately, I said, "Not so fast! Let's talk about this first."

I asked him to describe the route he would take. I asked him whether he would ride on the street or sidewalk (correct answer: sidewalk. Street only when Mom is there.) I asked him what he would do when he came to the street he needed to cross.

He got all the answers right. Then I asked him how long he thought he'd be at the park. "How about 20 minutes, Mom?" he asked.

Sweet. I think I can handle 20 minutes. I was guessing 10 minutes to get there, 10 to return, so he'd be gone 40 minutes total.

I took a deep breath and opened the garage door for the kids to get out their bicycles.

At the last minute, before they were about to take off, I shoved my cell phone into The Boy's pocket. "Answer this if it rings and says "Home" on the screen, and here's how you call me if you need me," I said.

I know, how ridiculous. I grew up on a very busy street near a commercial area, and I was allowed to go to the park or my friend's houses when I was his age. Was the world less dangerous then? I really don't think it was - at least not compared to my quiet, suburban neighborhood full of families and children.

But nowadays we worry so much,and often for good reason. But even so, eventually kids have to earn some responsibility - and they won't do that by being completely sheltered and shepherded.

So off the boys went. And as the clock approached 40 minutes, I started to worry. In fact, right around minute 40 of them being gone, I called.

The Boy answered. "I'm right at the top of our street, Mom! Look outside!" he said.

And there he was, with his buddy, two houses away from home.

Safe and sound. I couldn't have been more proud.

"So, Mom...will I be allowed to do this again?" he asked.

With confidence, I answered, "You obeyed my rules and came home on time. You answered the phone when it rang, even though you were close by. Yes, I think you'll be allowed to go to the park alone again!"

His beaming face announced his pleasure, and I tackled him to give him hugs and kisses as I said, "But don't forget, no matter how much independence you get, you'll always be my baby!"