Speaking as a son myself, and now having a son of my own that turned four a few months ago, I am very familiar with just how much we often enjoy pushing the envelope in order to create an identity that is all our own. Unnecessary risk taking is just what we do.

Whether we're talking rooftop pool cannonballs, makeshift home bike ramp jumping or live bottle rocket wars, sons tend to test the limits of our bodies growing up by engaging in incredibly senseless acts more so than our female counterparts. My brother and I used to wear goggles, chest padding and football helmets, and chase each other around our childhood backyard shooting each other with BB guns.

In high school, my friends and I used to perform real, actual, sleeper holds on one another, until somebody passed out. Some might classify that as "attempted murder" these days, but back then, we called it Saturday.

National Sons Day is March 4. Risk taking is not something I do very often anymore. I've mellowed out a great deal. Nowadays, taking a risk for me is more like ordering the sauce one scale temperature down from the hottest at Buffalo Wild Wings. Hardcore...I know.

First of all, let me just say OUCH! I've been the kid that face-plants off my bike on more occasions than I care to remember. I still remember knocking my front tooth out running face first into a mailbox trying to catch a NERF football on the street in front of my house when I was about eight years old. I still have the pin in my tooth that holds it in place to this day.

I remember seeing a dentist I'd never met before on that day, and handing him what was left of my busted tooth. My father introduced me as "My son...the Jackass."

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