To be young and invinceable

Having 3 boys is certainly going to give me my share of gray hairs at some point (no I'm not that old yet) and my wife may not survive the pre-teen and teen years with them. I think I should just start a tab at the ER now because I'm sure I'll need it. I look at all 3 of them some days and you'd think I beat the poor kids. Bruises all over their shins, scraped knees and elbows, the occassional scrape on the chin... it's like they just came out of battle. In a strange way though, it makes me happy. The odds of bruising yourself or scraping a knee are pretty low sitting in front of the TV so it must mean they're doing something. The oldest took another bike spill last night... silly type of thing that boys do when they convince themselves they are better at something than they are. Sure, I can buzz the mailbox with one hand on the handlebars on uneven grass and then bang a turn... yah, until said mailbox grabs the bars on you. Ah well... out came the bandaids and ice pack and we were good. For better or worse, and even if you don't believe it, I've learned more about my limits so I'm less likely to have the reckless type of injuries at my age. Sure, knowingly entering into dangerous situations can be more hazardous, but at least I understand when there's a risk. It's just funny to watch the learning experience and seeing which incidents they store away to feed future self-restraint and which ones are blown off, only to be repeated with the same results. Wait, I think that defines them as insane... oh well, happens to the best of us.