My first riding experience was when I was seven years old. My best friend's dad took the two of us to a stable to ride some ponies. They didn't want to leave the barn. We would switch, kick, beg, and plead until they would go about 100 yards away from the barn. Then they would trot rapidly back to the barn. I thought that it was the most glorious experience of my life.
If you go into riding, be aware that this is a dangerous sport. We get bucked off. We fall. We get kicked, bitten, slobbered on, and knocked over. I am 54 years old and I took a pretty hard fall recently. I dusted myself off, got back up and rode. I don't want die sitting in a rocking chair, knitting. I know that there is a big risk. And I love riding.
By the way, being a parent is not that easy. When I taught my son to drive, I stayed in panic mode. I screamed when he approached red lights. I was totally sure he would wreck and kill us all. He didn't. He also is not mad at me for being hysterical while he was learning to drive.