We’re not helicopter parents. Oh no, not us.
When my 27 year old son recently left for Bangladesh to volunteer in an orphanage for three months, my husband and I drove him to the airport. My husband dropped us off at the departure gate while he parked the car.
My son and I busied ourselves getting the suitcases on a trolley and then sailed into the airport so he could check his baggage. I clucked around a stand filling out lost suitcase forms for him and when my husband arrived he wanted to know if our son would like him to accompany him to the check-in desk. My son shrugged his shoulders and indicated that would be fine, thought the better of it, and refused his offer. Read More