I'm told that as a parent, I will make mistakes along the way, and the
best I can hope for is that they do not lead to years of therapy for my
offspring in the future. That being said, I'm pretty sure that after years of positive reinforcement to get my four year old to play nice--with lots of repetition of such family aphorisms as "we don't hit," "don't throw toys at people," "don't throw anything at people," and "if you want to talk about your butt you can do it in the bathroon"--that teaching him to play dodgeball was a mistake.
He
loved it. He loved hitting me in the butt with a rubber ball. He loved
me chasing him and hitting him in the butt with a rubber ball. He loved
throwing the ball at his father with the express intention of hitting
his father, who seemed to be having fun and not at all as angrified and
scary as he was when he was hit in the eyeball with number one son's
kaleidoscope.
After a good 30 minutes of running and laughing and saying "butt" many, many times, we call it a game.
"Oh, and by the way, son. You can't play this game with babies. Or your brother. Or at school. Ever."
Riiight.