Running with Sticks

When my oldest son was young, I was the careful mom.  My son looked cute - all the time.  I always had a spare diaper, some nutritious snacks, and made sure he followed the rules.  Among the rules was: No Running with Sticks!

Seriously...if he ran with a stick, he could trip, and then he could fall, and then he could impale himself in the eye with a stick, and therefore he would be blind for the rest of his life.  No running with sticks.

Then, I had another son, and another...and my rules get less and less strict.  I dressed my kids less and less matchy-match - and basically hoped they had clean underwear.  And...we ate whatever was in the house.

Now...my oldest is, um - gulp, almost a teenager.  I hear him talking about girls - he texts all the time - doesn't talk too much anymore either.  And I thought I needed to worry about him running with sticks.

There don't seem to be any rules for this...I gotta let him run.  It's scary though.

Running with sticks, or lightsabers, or sword fighting sure doesn't seem like a big deal anymore.