Somewhere between driveway chalk and popsicles on our friend’s front porch, playdates quietly changed. They stopped being spontaneous gatherings and became curated experiences. Childhood friendship, once a messy, unplanned thing, now comes with Starbucks drinks and cake pops, themed activities, and often a budget.
Over Thanksgiving, a friend told me about her trip to California. They were visiting her dad, and one of the neighborhood moms planned what could only be described in her words as an “influencer level playdate.” She hosted a “bougie craft day” for the local kids, complete with Whole Foods snacks, curated dessert trays, charm bracelets that looked like they came straight off a Tori Burch runway, matching craft mats, and parents hovering like stylists preparing for a shoot. It was beautiful, expensive, definitely memorable, and “totally California”.
Her daughter loved it, but he couldn’t help saying, “She would have had just as much fun throwing leaves at kids in the front yard.”
And that comment has stayed with me, because she is right. Kids will form friendships regardless of whether the snack is organic popcorn or pretzels in a ripped zip-top bag. The fun doesn’t come from gloss, or glimmer, or monogrammed keychains. It comes from simply being together.
And yet here we are. Playdates have become experiences.
The Cost of “Doing It Right”
It’s not just happening in California or in picture perfect neighborhoods. It’s happening in our homes. When Charli has a friend over, she almost always asks the same question,
“Can we stop at Starbucks and get pink drinks?”It’s become a playdate ritual, and saying no often leads to disappointment, because somewhere along the way, the pink drink turned into a symbol of inclusion.
Ten dollars to keep the peace between two nine year old girls. Ten dollars that didn’t exist when we were kids. Back then, an ice cream truck cone cost a dollar if that. It’s not even about the money its about the principle. Sometimes I say yes, sometimes I don’t. But the expectation is always there.
With Andi, the cost looks different. She doesn’t ask for treats; she asks for activities. Can they bake? Make slime? Create posters? And I usually say yes because she loves creating something.
But the common thread is this: playdates now come with an agenda.
When we were kids, we just showed up. We made up games, we invented worlds. No one planned an experience, no one brought a themed snack. And we were fine. Maybe even better than fine.
When Did Friendship Become Transactional?
Like everything in modern parenting, we drifted gradually. One mom tries something cute.
Another elevates it. Someone brings matching hair clips. Someone films it, posts it on insta and then suddenly we are all thinking Am I doing enough? But childhood friendship doesn’t need production value; kids don’t need curated memories, they make their own. My girls prove that constantly.
Charli and her friends can be laughing hysterically over absolutely nothing, something about someone’s shoe, or a joke no one else understands, and that joy is entirely independent of what snacks I bought. Andi can choreograph a full cheer routine with zero music, zero structure, and total confidence. She does not need boutique pompoms or matching socks to feel connected.
The only requirement is time and other kids .Simple as that.
Screens, Snacks, and Simplicity
In our house, we limit screens when friends are over because once a screen is on, their brains shut down into passive mode.
A movie? Fine. A background iPad scroll? That’s a hard no in my house. Without screens, kids can rediscover imagination. They build forts, play with dolls, and run in and out of rooms, making up games I cannot figure out. They organize the playroom into a store or cheer gym. They make up an entire play and make me watch it. They play like we played, except they sometimes do it with a pink drink in hand.
What becomes problematic is when a playdate feels like a financial commitment. When hosting becomes pressure, presentation pressure, snack pressure, and entertainment pressure. That is not childhood, that is branding.
The Promise Going Forward
Will I probably still buy pink drinks? Yes. Will I still sometimes plan an activity? Yes.
Will I do crafts with ribbons and stickers? Yes BUT I will not confuse any of that with the purpose. The purpose is connection, friendship and learning how to navigate the world with another kid in the room. Laughing so hard, the playdate ends with costumes and a performance, a request for the friend to stay longer, and a mess somewhere in my house. That is the economics of playdates, not the dollar amount spent. But the cost of being present without needing everything to sparkle.