My house echoes with the school year’s constant whining that school and homework “get in the way of life.” My older two boys couldn’t wait for summer, so “we can do whatever we want.”
On the last day of school, I said to a friend, let’s see how quickly “whatever we want” turns into “we’re bored.”
And the sun rises on Day One….
I sat on the edge of the pool chatting with my thirteen year old, who had been floating alone, looking up at a clear blue sky, occasionally glancing at his brothers at swim team practice.
“Mom I am soooo glad it’s summer.”
“Me too,” I smiled.
Pause. Dramatic sigh. “But I’m bored. I’m happy. It’s just that… I don’t want to do anything at all for the first month. No reading anything, no exercise, no golf, no work at all. I hate running. Don’t make me run.”
Running was the deal if he didn’t do swim team.
“And don’t remind me to do my summer journal.”
Last weekend, he passed his test to be a golf caddie, which he was thrilled to do soooo many days ago, when he sought a distraction from exams.
“And I’m not going to caddie.”
“Yes you are.”
“Why? Because I invested so much time in it?”
“No, because you were sooo excited about it two days ago.”
Sigh. “I’m bored.”