The temperature was below freezing as I dropped my 14-year-old son off at Scout camp, just as he realised he’d left his sleeping bag at home. Did I jump in the car and do the hour-long round trip to fetch it for him? No, I did not. I simply blew him a kiss and drove away. Michael was old enough to take full responsibility for packing his own camping gear. When I arrived home, I even texted him a picture of it, with the message, ‘Your sleeping bag looks nice and cosy in the hallway.’
Climbing into bed and switching my heated blanket on that night, I thought, ‘Gosh, it’s cold, Michael’s going to suffer’, but I didn’t lose any sleep. I knew he’d
