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Growing up in the 1980s and ’90s, sleepovers were a common occurrence for my friends and I. I cannot even count how many times I slept over at a friend’s home, starting in late elementary school all the way through high school.
For the most part, these sleepovers were innocent but it’s not those I remember: it’s the ones where I saw movies I was way too young to see, where things were discussed that were far above my maturity level, and where I couldn’t even remember parents being present.
These sins seem quite tame compared to the deluge of possible harm that children face in today’s society if they stay over at a friend’s house, which is exactly why my daughters are not allowed to participate in sleepovers.
Parents, daughter holding hands in a park.
I’m not a helicopter parent. I don’t follow my daughters, who are 12 and 8, everywhere when they are playing. They love to read, paint, hike and play board games. I try to give them a lot of freedom to make their own decisions but also guide them along the right paths, hopefully leading to a