I would ALWAYS and INEVITABLY get separated from my dad on a hiking trip, hunting trip, trip to the mall, whatever. It was always just a failure to communicate. One time he told me to keep following a fencerow, and I did…for about five miles. Another time he took out looking for me and fell in a hole and put a ding in his rifle barrel and barely restrained himself from abject fury.

But he was always patient because I had plausibly misconstrued his instructions when stuff like that happened. However, had I led him on a wild goose chase because I’d deliberately said “screw it, I’m going this way because I’m lonesome,” there would have been no more hunting trips or hikes.

Because of the wheelchair.

What good is trapsing around the forest after a bunch of other tweens and a couple parental “ok, everybody over here now. stay in line” types?

I promise you this kid did not learn the ‘lesson’ you suggest. In fact he probably learned an entirely different and superficially contrary lesson.

“Being safe” is a mother’s concern to a kid, especially a 12 year old boy with the great beyond staring right at him from ‘just off the path’.

Yep. Glad he’s safe. But I’ll bet most anything that his take-away is an awful lot different than anyone would hope.