If teenagers are anything like I was at their age, they might find the idea of a "family weekend" about as much fun as a root canal. I have traumatic memories of being dragged away from my Atari on Fridays to spend an entire 45 minutes in the car (horror!) en route to my family's summer home, where all I could do was play in the river, climb trees, catch fish and generally gambol about carefree in dappled sunlight. You can see why I hated it.

If you'd asked me what I preferred, I'm somewhat embarassed to admit I would have demanded to stay in the basement with the blinds drawn, eating popcorn and watching Schwarzenegger movies. You can see why my parents never asked. They were probably terrified of the answer.

Folks these days, however, are made of hardier stuff, as a read of this Saturday's Guardian Travel "Kids' special" will testify. For those of you brave enough to have handed your kids the reins for a weekend adventure or longer break, was it as painful for you as your trips to the Dulwich Picture Gallery are for them - or did you find the experience a pleasant surprise? Were their ideas a bit more adventurous than mine? Or did they succeed in dragging you to the nearest multiplex? And did it bring you closer to your children in an atmosphere of mutual respect (or possibly mockery), or did it merely reinforce the yawning generation gap between you? Most of all, would you do it again?

Let's hear it: your happy times or horror tales of letting the kids plan a dream break.