Matthew and I are what most people would consider highly responsible.

On our third date, I told him that I found his sense of responsibility attractive. He was surprised. Apparently, that is not something most people say on a third date.

And it’s probably one of the reasons we work so well together.

We are planners. We think things through. We are careful with our money. We prefer the word frugal to cheap. We don’t tend to make spontaneous decisions, especially when those decisions involve getting on an airplane.

Tomorrow, we have a 3 p.m. flight to Las Vegas with our 13-year-old son.

Matthew and I were watching American Ninja Warrior before we even knew each other. So naturally, we were watching it when we had Keaton.

And almost as soon as he could talk, he would tell us that he wanted to be a ninja too.

Then American Ninja Warrior Junior came along, and suddenly that dream felt a little more possible.

He started training. He went to class. He worked hard. He watched the show differently because now he wasn’t just watching people do something amazing on television. He was working toward something himself.

Unfortunately, American Ninja Warrior Junior was canceled the season before he became old enough to apply.

But somewhere along the way, something else happened.

Keaton became part of this little ninja community.

Over the last few years, he has become friends with so many of the people we used to only watch on television. People who compete on the show now know our kid. They cheer for him. They encourage him. Some have coached him. Some have become people he genuinely looks up to.

It is a pretty amazing thing to watch.

We saw it last season while watching the show. Instead of watching strangers compete, we were recognizing people. We were cheering for friends. We were texting people. We were holding our breath for people Keaton cares about.

And then his teammate and coach, Helena, was invited onto the show.

There really wasn’t much of a question.

We had already planned to take a full week off school for our cruise in September. The responsible, practical part of us knew that adding another trip didn’t make much sense.

But we kept coming back to the same thought:

How do you not go?

How do you not take your son to support someone who has been such an important part of his journey?

How do you not show up for the person who has helped him, coached him, encouraged him, and invested in him?

How do you not let him stand there and cheer for someone he cares about while she chases something that matters to her?

And how do you not give him the chance to cheer for all the other ninjas he has spent years watching and learning from?

So we stopped being practical.

At least for a weekend.

Thanks to an early release from school tomorrow, we can pick Keaton up as soon as he gets out, drive straight to the airport, catch a flight to Las Vegas, land around 5 p.m., and head directly to the filming location.

We need to be in line by 6.

Helena will run around 9.

Then we will stay up all night cheering.

We’ll probably attempt to sleep during the day Saturday before doing it all over again Saturday night. Then we’ll fly home early Sunday morning and try to recover enough to be functional for work and school on Monday.

It is objectively ridiculous.

And completely worth it.

Because our kids don’t stay 13.

The opportunities don’t always come at convenient times. And sometimes the things that matter most don’t fit neatly into the calendar or the budget or the carefully thought-out plan.

Sometimes you have to say, This matters to us. Let’s go.

We are incredibly fortunate that we have the ability to do this. We know that. Not everyone can make a decision like this and get on a plane for less than 48 hours.

But we can.

So we are.

Because someday Keaton will be grown.

Someday he won’t need us to drive him to practice or get on a plane with him or stand in a crowd at 2 a.m. cheering until our voices are gone.

And I hope that when he looks back on these years, he remembers that we showed up.

Not just for the big things.

For the things that mattered to him.

I think that may be one of the greatest gifts we can give our kids. Not making every decision perfectly. Not always choosing the most responsible or practical option. But letting them know that when something really matters, we will be there.

So tomorrow, two highly responsible, frugal adults are going to throw responsibility and frugality out the window.

We’re getting on a plane.

We’re going to stay up all night.

We’re going to cheer way too loudly.

We’re probably going to be completely exhausted when we get home.

And we wouldn’t want it any other way.

Because sometimes being a good parent means making the practical choice.

And sometimes it means looking at your kid, looking at the opportunity in front of you, and saying:

Pack your bag. We’re going.

And that’s exactly what we’re doing.