Have you read the Grass Stain Guru’s post on boredom? You must.
I’ll wait.
Growing up, we were not allowed to utter the dreaded “B” word. The conversation would go something like this:
Me: “Mom, I’m boooorrrrrred.”
Mom to me (in a lovely lilting and fun voice): “You’re bored? Well, let’s find something for you to do. Um, laundry? Do you want to sweep the deck? Clean up your room? You could help me balance my checkbook.”
Me: “I’m not bored anymore.” And I’d disappear.
For a long time.
I’m tickled by her tactics now that I’m a mom myself. The above photo is me (on the left) and my cousin. Doesn’t look like we’re bored at all. Memories of playtime with my sister and family are the best memories of all. Luckily, I had parents who left me to create my own fun. Forced me, in fact, by refusing to entertain me every moment of the day.
Now I’m an expert. Everyone who knows me, knows I’m easily amused. I always say, “Doesn’t take much.” With school approaching, I’m looking back at a summer filled with pretend play, park and playground exploring, many days spent playing with cousins, and not a lot of the “B” word. And it amuses me to no end.