I took the two ambulatory boys skating over the long weekend. I skated along with the younger boy while his older brother took his new hockey stick into battle in a little pickup game at the far end of the ice. After a few minutes of watching Zach's adorable shuffling method of skating, I struck up a conversation with a guy skating alongside his four-year-old son. When I told him we'd just had the fourth child, he asked me, "So how's it feel switching from man-to-man to zone coverage?"

It was a funny line, but it was also a perfect analogy for child-raising: you're always playing defense. You need to guard against accidents, mean dogs, pedophiles, and Democrats, of course. But the kids are always on the attack too: sneaking ice cream, "remodeling" the house, placing roller skates and other high-comedy-potential toys on the stairs. So a parent must channel Bill Belichick to create a constantly-changing, anticipatory defense against the threats to your children and the threats your children pose to you.

But in the end, it doesn't matter what defense you play, because Kobe's coming to town every night.

(P.S. Yes, I mixed my football and basketball metaphors in one post. If you plan on being a regular reader of this site, I'd advise you to get used to such grammatical heresy.)