I was a latchkey child ...

… I’ll let you recover your breath and heart-rates, the youngsters amongst you.
Both my parents worked, they weren’t able to get home before or when we did. So, I was given a key to the front door and I’d walk my little sister and brother home from school (taunting them cruelly as only an older sister can).By car, 1.2km, but by foot we covered much less distance, cutting through the park. But we did cross a big road, only one, but cross it we did (never got run over btw). Strictly against school rules of course, we were supposed to use the underpass, which was dark and smelly, so we’d cross before the school Nazis could see us! (There’s 2 X-s because we initially went to Mt Neighbour Primary School but ended up at its arch rival, St Thomas, something for which I’ve not yet been able to forgive my mother.)
Initially, we had a babysitter who would arrive shortly after us, as she was a 16-year-old high-school student and they finished school later. Do you need another rest from the heart palpitations? Yes, a 16-year-old high-school student was left in charge of three primary-school kids, she’d make sure I didn’t kill them, and they didn’t gang up and torment me to death, until my dad got home, about 6pm (mum worked nights). She’d sit with us on the occasional Saturday night too, if my parents wanted a night out, sans kinder. She’d regale us with stories of kissing boys (aaargg, the germs) and going to rock concerts (oooo the sophistication).
Later, when I was 12 or 13, there was no sitter. I’d come home with the siblings, let us in, ring mum so she knew we were home, and then torture them with sharp instruments until dad got home.
We never died, were never kidnapped or molested, we never set fire to anything (my sister left that until after I’d left home), nothing bad ever happened. Unless you ask my brother and sister of course, in which case bad things happened to them every single afternoon!
Later still, when I was at high school, I was not only expected to walk to a bus stop, catch a bus to school and then back again, my little brother and sister were given keys of their own, and had to make their own way home from school without my superior navigating skills. Other than my brother being even more evil to my sister than I (hey, S, sorry about all that by the way, it made you stronger, prepared you for the real world I’m sure), nothing bad ever happened then either.
Hell, at one stage I was a 16-year-old high-school student who looked after two little boys a couple of afternoons a week, until their mum got home. And nothing bad ever happened, I didn’t even get to torture them!
I’ll leave tales of my adventures, unaccompanied by a responsible adult, on bicycle, horseback and roller skates (at MIDNIGHT) for another time.
All this is a preamble to how much I admire this mum, bucking against the trend, actually letting her kids be kids, on their own like everyone used to, once upon a time. She’s not America's worst mother, she’s one of the few good ones left.