I have a son and two daughters, all under the age of nine. I have very little time left before my son starts experiencing "the urges." No, not the urges of bodily stimulation, but those of the curious minds of boys. Already my son has displayed his desires to hold or even be near things with blades, things made of metal, or things designed to shoot projectiles. Flashing lights and sound effects are also high on the list of drool inducers. He likes to build as well as destroy, arguably mankind's most highly developed skills. My son will soon exercise and practice his skills with or without supervision.
How do I know? I lived it. Any man who claims he did nothing stupid, dangerous, and destructive growing up is lying, has repressed the memories, or was never beyond sight of his mother. Notice I used the conjunction "and" instead of "or." We practice all three types of acts,-- stupid, dangerous, destructive-- often together. Please understand that this propensity for risky explorations has little to do with intelligence. Smart kids have no immunity against our biological urge to endanger ourselves and others around us. You can resist, for a time, but resistance is futile (the Borg are right). Lest you think I am exaggerating, I will present a short list of truly asinine stunts, topics, and experiments I was involved in over the years. I will leave out the dates and names of others, although my older brother was usually directing the chaos.
FIRED ARROWS STRAIGHT UP, THEN STOOD VERY STILL
EXPLODED BULLETS FOUND IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD WITH SHOTS FROM A BB-GUN
FIRED ARROW AT FRIEND WHO WANTED TO PRACTICE NINJA ARROW CATCHING TRICK
THREW PACKS OF FIRECRACKERS INTO LIT BARBECUE GRILL
CHINESE THROWING STARS AND THROWING SPIKES, never mind the details
JUMPING FROM VARIOUS HIGH PLACES
HOME-MADE BLOW GUNS AND DARTS
EXPLORING DARK AND HIDDEN PLACES
SWIMMING IN THE RAIN-SWOLLEN CREEK
The list really does go on and on. All I know is that I will soon have to figure out how I will react to my own child's version of the same idiocy I performed. It's true that I am here, and I "turned out OK," but surely there has to be a way to break the cycle.
I suppose that's why men invented contact sports. We need a confined arena in which to dangerously bang into each other and cheer about it. Here's to the future. There isn't much time.
Live Well.
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