Americans by their nature are gamblers.

At no time is that more apparent than during March Madness when everyone from car dealers to file clerks takes a gamble and bets a few bucks on a bunch of college students in hopes that their teams will win a national championship.

The office pool is a truly democratic institution. Everyone is on an equal footing in this game.

People who have never been to Vegas or gambled on a game of cover-all at the local bingo parlor think nothing of betting the lunch money on Bracketville.

But why is anyone surprised? Americans have always been gamblers. How else can you explain the spirit of our nation's founders who went to war against the 18th century's super power, Great Britain?

If the colonists weren't gamblers, there would have been no revolution and March Madness would have been reserved for cricket.

Still, even March Madness isn't a gamble like real life. For one thing, you get time-outs in the NCAA tournament.

In real life, there are no time-outs. That holds particularly true for parents who are constantly trying to coach their children into being well-rounded persons who know how to read, write and shop when the price is right.

We try to protect our children from life's pitfalls. But even a zone defense doesn't work all the time.

Our oldest daughter, 10-year-old Becca, has run into her share of bad luck. Two weeks ago, she banged up her knee on a school doorstop, earning herself a pair of crutches. Last week, she hurt her mouth while jumping rope. The injury required a trip to the orthodontist.

I'm outraged. You'd think our federal government would have stepped in by now and outlawed doorstops and jump ropes, or at least created a whole new bureaucracy to regulate it to death.

Of course, I never expected our daughter would run into a troublesome jump rope.

There are days it seems when we all would do well to wrap ourselves in body armor before we walk out the door into those pesky pitfalls.

But as all parents know, we can't protect our kids from everything.

You never know when you're kid is going to be bucked off the bicycle or attacked by a tennis shoe or some other accessory of life.

Like all children, Becca is willing to gamble on youth. As with other children, she's quick to heal and move on to the next hazard.

But she won't gamble when it comes to eating. She has a limited menu and she sticks to it.

Peanut butter, chicken nuggets and chocolate milk sustain her. She wouldn't dare gamble on something as risky as a cheeseburger.

Catching a "throwed" roll at Lambert's is about as daring as she gets at meal time.

Bailey, on the other hand, is willing to try all the food groups. She likes pizza and spaghetti, French toast and Chinese food. Our 6-year-old loves Lions Club pancakes, which clearly is a sign of good citizenship.

But she's not crazy. She isn't into March Madness or office pools. The only pools she knows are for swimming.

For the most part, she keeps her head above water. She's not ready to dive into an office pool where success depends on the bounce of a ball.

As for Becca, she's too busy fending off attacking jump ropes to worry about basketball.

March Madness, it seems, goes way beyond basketball.

And it can be difficult at times. Outside the office pool, it's hard to know the score.

Mark Bliss is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.