Boyz being boyz 2008. It doesn’t even sound right yet, does it? It promises to be an interesting year. Or perhaps, a frustrating one, considering there is a presidential election coming up. By summer, we may be watching all cable all the time at our house just to avoid the political ads. This year also brings another monumental event. Logan turns 13. God help us all. He is already counting the days. It doesn’t happen for eight months, but he has big plans for being a teenager. That blessed, magical word "teen" will apparently transform his life. I’ve told him all of his supposed freedoms he believes he will have aren’t going to count for much, because that magic word, while it may change his life, doesn’t impress me or his dad at all. We aren’t going to suddenly wake up August 13 and throw off all of the rules and guidelines he lives by now. He’s an optimistic child, though, and hope springs eternal. He’s thinking life will change for the better, and his strict mom and by-the-book dad might cut him a little slack. He doesn’t know what I know though. I’ve been a teenager. Worse, his dad has been a teenager. We know what we were back in the day. Logan doesn’t stand a chance, because there’s pretty much not a thing that child can do that me or his dad (especially his dad) hasn’t already done or thought about doing, probably bigger, longer, louder, harder, or faster. In fact, when Logan was born, I made Gary promise me something. He had to promise me when Logan got older and got in trouble, that Gary would stick by me when it came time to hand down punishment. I had to get Gary’s word on that. Otherwise, Gary would have pulled Logan aside and said, "Now, son, in my day, I did it like this..." Without Gary’s prior promise, Logan would have been getting ideas and instructions of an entirely different sort. We have a secret that Logan doesn’t know. We present a united front. But fairly often, one of us, silently, is quietly encouraging the boy to be, well, a boy. Sometimes, men just don’t get it. Of course, my man would say that sometimes, women just don’t get it. My overriding concern is for Logan’s safety. Gary’s overriding concern is for Logan’s ability to have fun. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem that boys are capable of having fun and being safe at the same time. They can have fun, or they can be safe, but apparently, they can’t do both. I win when it comes to school work and household chores and learning the social graces. Logan must do those things and do them well, and if Logan dares to question my word, Gary will enforce it beyond a shadow of a doubt. But when it comes to riding four wheelers or go carts or target practice, his dad wins every time. He is a safe as he can be...a concession to me. He wears a helmet and safety glasses and hearing protection. But he does do them, all the same. I’m pretty sure this isn’t going to get any better the older Logan gets. Gary just had a birthday too, but mentally, when it comes to the boys-doing-boy things, I’m pretty sure both of them are about the same age.. Christmas eve, we were going to have a party. The house was spotless, and everything was ready to go. Gary and Logan went out for a few hours. When they came back, an hour before the party, both of them were literally covered in mud from head to toe. They both tracked mud through the house, both had to have showers, both had to change clothes, and both contributed to messing up the spotless, party ready home that guests were going to be arriving at within minutes. They also both had grins on their faces from ear to ear. They had a fabulous time going four wheeling with a friend through a mud covered field. The friend also had a marvelous time flipping his four wheeler over and hurting his leg to the point of probably needing medical attention. When I was concerned, they just laughed. Yeah, someone got hurt, but they sure had fun doing it. When I called to check on our friend, he laughed too. His wife wasn’t thrilled, but he had a great time. Boys. God help us all. | 
