"Mom, we're going to Walibi over the holidays," my 14-year-old son announced while I was buried in work at my computer. It barely registered that he meant going solo, so I mumbled, "Just add it to the calendar."
I'd completely forgotten about it until dinnertime, when he brought it up again. "If we go to Walibi," he started. I froze. "Hold on—who are you going with, and who said you could?" I asked, stunned. He rattled off a few friends' names and insisted I'd already given the okay, which he'd passed on. Oops.
I racked my brain but couldn't recall agreeing. To be sure—my memory's not what it used to be!—I double-checked with him. To my son, jotting it in the calendar equaled permission granted. A classic reminder of how vital clear communication is with teens (and everyone, really). I love this quote: "Communication is sharing misunderstandings as closely as possible." Spot on here.
The issue wasn't settled. "I'm not sure about you kids taking the train all the way to Biddinghuizen," I told my increasingly sullen teen. That's 130 kilometers away, involving a train ride, a transfer, and a bus. As an experienced parent, I pictured every worst-case scenario: wrong train, getting lost, sketchy strangers, missing the return trip. My son assured me one friend had done it solo many times and knew the ropes. Still cautious, I messaged the boy's mom—she confirmed he was a pro with routes. I asked my son to hold off. He updated his friends: "90% sure I can't..." with a grumpy emoji.
That evening, I texted my own mom: "How old was I for my first Teen Tour solo?" Those trips were epic—four days crisscrossing the Netherlands with other teens, no parents in sight. Beach days, amusement parks, Amsterdam adventures, new friends we'd stay in touch with. Pure freedom at its peak!
My phone buzzed back: "15!" Ouch. My son turns 15 next month. I'd been his exact age on those journeys. And Walibi? I think we hit it during a Teen Tour—back when it was Six Flags Holland. "Should we let him go?" I asked my husband.
