Boys will be boys

I really enjoy my boys. The ones who live at home are all here right now, including the one girlfriend who's been around for 2 years. She came to me all panicked a couple minutes ago. "Maggie, do you know your boys are climbing up the tree in the back yard, really high?" Well, no I didn't, but it doesn't bother me. They've been climbing it since they were small. "But what if they fall and kill themselves?" Well then, they died having fun. They ARE adults. A minute or two later one of my tree-climbing boys came to me and showed me his hand. He'd scraped the skin off quite deeply in a couple places and wanted to know what to do. "Should I rip the skin off or not?" I had to decide but I really didn't know. Hmmm. Well, even if the skin is dead, if he leaves it on it will provide protection for the wounds so I tell him to wash well, pour hydrogen peroxide on and then bandage them. He's done that and I see that band-aids just won't do the trick. I was going to have to wrap it with gauze but I only have scotch tape. I guess that would work, eh? I asked him what happened. He was so excited. He went up higher in the tree than he's ever gone before—“A whole story above our (two-story) house, Mom!” He wanted to try a different way to come down so when he was about 9 feet above the ground, he jumped, grabbed a branch as he moved through the air (that's how he hurt his hand) and rotated around it. He wasn't disturbed at all about the damage he'd done to himself. He'd had FUN! It's just another day in Maggie’s household.