by Hilary Williamson

It's amazing the attraction that stones have to water, with kids as catalysts. My sons have been tossing rocks into lakes, ponds, puddles and generally any body of water available to them since they were toddlers at high risk of braining each other with wild throws. There must be an undiscovered scientific principle in there somewhere, perhaps a new type of magnetism between minerals and H2O, triggered by kid chemistry.

We were by the lake yesterday. It was too cold to kayak or swim and the frogs weren't hopping yet. My sons (now 10 and 12) rediscovered rocks. They rolled up their pant legs and dared the chill lake water hunting for suitable stones—flat and light with rounded edges. Then they started skipping them. The mom's role in all of this is to maintain a running commentary—Good one, Best yet, Wow, That's a plunker, Can't all be perfect—and, of course, never to make the fatal error of looking away when that magical toss sends a stone skimming the surface in multiple long hops.

Siblings whose regular arguments often turn to scuffles, get along remarkably well while involved in this pastime. It requires concentration and focus. My older son surprises me by brotherly advice and demonstrations of the best arm movement, while his younger brother hands him world-class stones (he admits that he is still an amateur and gives precedence to the pro). When they're looking downwards for new ammunition, I sneak in a couple of my own attempts, which sink straight to the bottom.

Skipping stones is a great hobby. It's inexpensive, accessible, and provides hours of summer entertainment and harmony; but do supervise the little ones, whose lack of directional sense can be dangerous!