Okay, so there are articles floating around that say parents should let their kids play with fire (supervised), and do other potentially dangerous things like walk to school. Articles that point out how some parents these days tend to be over-protective.
Me, I’m far from neurotic! Very far. In fact, I’m probably the type of parent that created those over-protective parents.
Because yes, I let my kids eat the seasoned pretzels that fell on the floor in the shop. (Where Dee works. The secretary was horrified.)
When my kids climb to the top of the freezer in the basement, I just laugh and say, “That ceiling fan might slice your head open, or you could fall and break your neck. Please don’t do it again!” after I take a picture.
I let my kids build forts in the woods across the field behind our house.
I let my boys carve sticks with pocketknives.
My boys ask for lighters for Christmas, and I sound really apologetic when I say, “No, not this year.”
I let my kids have sharp needles to practice sewing, and hand them ice if they poke themselves. (All of my kids need ice if they get hurt, so they can suck on the ice! I think it’s a children’s version of acupressure: ice on the tongue affects most other parts of the body.)
I let my kids do drugs. (Caffeine, people! Just caffeine.)
I let them have huge, serrated knives to help slice lettuce for salad.
I let them climb trees, cross the street to get the mail, and drive the lawnmower.
And yes, I do let my kids light fires and poke their amazing fires with sticks. This is a rite of childhood!