Play Hooky with Your Kid for a Day

Fun is medicine. I say this to everyone — my clients, my colleagues, my friends.

It's also something so often overlooked. And for a lot of parents, it's something they forget to do — or don't know how to do anymore — with their kids.

I work with a lot of parents who are trying to build better relationships with their kids. One of the things I recommend pretty early on is this: stop being only the person who enforces the rules, and become someone your kid can also have fun with. Those are not the same thing, and most kids know the difference.

When I'm working with a child experiencing serious depression — or even suicidal ideation — fun is one of the first things I try to build into their life. Not as a distraction. As medicine.

One recommendation I make all the time is this: play hooky with your kid for a day. And I mean each parent with each child, one on one. Don't batch it. The moment you turn it into a group experience, you lose the thing that makes it powerful — which is that child feeling like they have your full, undivided attention. Every child deserves to feel that they are worth that kind of focus.

There are a few rules. First, you actually have to play hooky — pull them out of school, take the day off work, or step away from whatever normally takes up your time. The point is that something that usually comes first is being set aside for them. Second, you go do something your child enjoys, not something you want to do. This day is about them. Third — and this one is non-negotiable — you as the parent have to genuinely disconnect. No emails, no Slack, no quietly checking your phone. The whole day.

The lessons underneath all of this are important. You are showing your child that they matter more than school today, more than work today. That your relationship with them takes priority. That their wants and needs are not just heard but actually acted on. And that it's okay — good, even — to take a break and just have fun.

I always turn this back around on parents and ask: how would you have felt if your parent had done this with you when you were a kid? If they had pulled you out of school one day, no explanation, and just taken you somewhere you loved — just the two of you? Wouldn't you remember it? Wouldn't you have loved it?

Your kids will remember it. I promise you that.

The parent your kid needs isn't just the one who enforces the rules

One of the first things I work on with parents who are struggling to connect with their kids is this reframe: you don't just want to be the person in your child's life who enforces rules and manages logistics. You want to be someone they actually want to be around.

That sounds simple. But for a lot of families — especially high-achieving, well-intentioned, deeply caring families — somewhere along the way the relationship became mostly transactional. Did you do your homework? Did you practice? Did you eat? Are you ready for tomorrow?

Your child knows you love them. But do they know you like them? Do they know you think they're fun to be around? Do they have a memory from the last six months of you laughing together, not at something on a screen, but because of something that happened between the two of you?

Fun is especially powerful when things are hard

When I'm working with a child experiencing serious depression, or a teenager who is struggling in ways that feel scary to their parents, one of the first things I try to bring into their life is fun. Not in a dismissive way — not "just cheer up." But as a genuine clinical tool.

When a child is depressed, the world feels flat and gray. Everything requires effort and nothing feels worth it. Joy feels inaccessible. One of the most powerful things we can do is create small, real experiences of pleasure and connection — moments that prove to their nervous system that lightness is still possible.

And here's what research backs up: positive shared experiences between parent and child are one of the strongest protective factors for youth mental health. Not perfect parenting. Not the right consequences or the right words at the right time. Shared joy. Shared silliness. Being together in a moment that feels good.

What playing hooky actually looks like

It doesn't have to be elaborate. It has to be intentional — and it has to be genuinely about them, not about what you think they should enjoy or what fits neatly into your schedule.

Ask your kid: if we had a whole day and we could do anything, what would you want to do? Then — and this is the hard part — actually do it. Without turning it into a lesson. Without sneaking in errands. Without being on your phone. Just be there, with them, doing the thing they love.

For some kids that's a theme park. For others it's a day of video games and junk food. For others it's hiking, or baking, or going to every thrift store in a twenty mile radius. The activity matters less than the message it sends: you are worth my whole day. I want to be here with you. This is fun for me too.

Give yourself permission

I know the voice in your head that's saying: but the attendance record, the deadlines, the guilt. I hear you. And I'm saying it anyway: one day won't ruin anything. But it might repair something.

You are not just your kid's parent. You are one of the most important relationships of their life. That relationship deserves investment — not just correction, not just oversight, but real, joyful, unscheduled time together.

Fun is medicine. Go take your dose.