Daily Archives: June 7, 2011

Boys and the Dangerous Y Chromosome

My younger son demonstrates how to safely ride on a float in our pool.

This is the savvy mom’s definition of a boy: Able to make something that should be harmless and fun into something that is totally dangerous albeit fun . . . for the male.

Let me demonstrate photographically how the Y chromosome means not only an inability to pick up things off the floor but also a penchant towards peril. Starring the usual suspects plus our disc golf buddy Glen.

Chase takes his stand as my older son is ready to throw the big beach ball at him.

When my younger son asked us to buy a new, round float for our swimming pool, I envisioned the fun he, his older brother, and my “third son” Chase would have. How much they would enjoy lying, sitting, or kneeling on it as they traversed the blue waters. Sure, they might squabble over whose turn it was to placidly use the float, but all three know how to share by now.

#2 son takes aim at #1.

How long have I been a mom to sons? Have I forgotten over the last 19 years that “harm” is the key part of “harmless?”

The big beach ball is about to collide with #1.

Almost immediately upon inflating the float and throwing it into the pool, one son proceeded to stand on it while the other tried to knock him off with our huge beach ball. Meanwhile, the Mister and I watched in horror as the son on the inflatable drifted near the edge of the pool or the waterfall’s rocks with the ball about to hit him and possibly knock him backwards. Then they would switch places and continue this madness over and over again.

This has been their favorite game so far this summer. “No blood in the pool!” has become my mantra.

My older son’s throw is on its way towards Glen.

That dangerous Y doesn’t end at adulthood, by the way. Glen, who is like a big kid, had to get in on the whack-a-guy-off-the-float action when he and his family visited recently.

Thar he goes (much to the #2 son’s delight)!

I have to admit that Glen’s fall into the pool was pretty funny.


Fortunately, he was nowhere near the pool edge or rocks.

I had hoped that with my sons getting older that I wouldn’t have to watch them constantly when they’re in the pool, but I still find myself pulling up a chair and making sure they stay near the middle of the water.

Thank you, Y chromosome, for reality-slapping me in the face once again!