My 8-year-old went to the restroom wearing rollerblades. I heard a thud. I’m optimistic that he learned a valuable lesson.

Tristan came in the house wearing rollerblades. He’d been outside, riding around in the yard with the hose turned on, a short stocky boy, fully dressed in school polo and khaki shorts, spraying himself and screaming. Now he was heading inside, dripping wet, to use the bathroom.

I was sitting on the sofa folding laundry when I heard him squishing across t…