Miss P the elder has just informed me she is bored. She has nothing to do.
I am not that surprised by this, as she has been bored and without something to do for much of the last six weeks and, with a day and a half still to go before she must return to matters educational, she’s getting in one last grumble about the dearth of stimulating pastimes on offer to her here at home over the holidays.
My dear Miss P, I am sorry you are bored and that you have nothing to do. I’m sorry there are no dancing girls, circus workshops, or firework displays scheduled for your entertainment right now.
It must be dreadful being ten and having SIX WEEKS OF UNFETTERED FREEDOM FOISTED UPON YOU BY THE STATE.
Here are some ideas though.
Why don’t you read one of the several dozen unread books that are in your book shelves? Why don’t you challenge your sister to one of the numerous games we are lucky enough to own, or tackle one of those craft kits you’ve been gifted but never got around to opening? Come to think of it, how about doing something useful to help your old mum around the house? Tidy up your own bedroom, maybe, or go through your wardrobe and drawers and put all the things you never wear into a charity bag? What say you catalogue your Jacqueline Wilson comics, or your Harry Potter audio CDs, scattered all over the shop as they are right now? How’s about writing the birthday thank you letters you never got around to last year? Practise your trumpet? Locate your pencil case and get your school bag ready for Thursday? Clean out the rabbits? (The ones you promised you would always clean out but, um, never do?)
Or hey, why don’t you just go and lie on your back in the garden in the sun, daydreaming about nothing in particular and making the most of these last few moments of having absolutely nothing to do?
One day soon you’ll be a grown up, kid, and then you will never be bored, because you will always have something to do. Too many things to do.
Roll on the new term….
I’m sociable, follow me!
My God, now you put it like that…Imagine being legally obliged to sit on your arse for six weeks every summer until you turn 16. I’ve forgotten that this actually happened to me. Hahahahahaahha, I feel quite hysterical at the thought of it happening to me now.
I was going to blog about this stuff on http://www.thekrakenwakes.org but right now I’m too busy getting pissed on cooking sherry and dancing naked around the burning pile of shit craft projects that have taken over the house.
Ha ha ha, calm down Cath. Don’t go hysterical on me!!
You need a boredom jar. Fill it with a mixture of fun things and housework. If they dare to utter those words then they run the risk in choosing a card from the boredom jar!
What a brilliant idea!!!
I love snafflesmummy’s boredom jar idea! I think you summed up nicely what goes through every mother’s head at the end of the summer holidays! Def time to go back to school….
Thank you Suzanne. I write against a backdrop of peace and calm….the new term is fully aswing!
I’ve been sat on my arse best part of 25 years. Just sayin’…
I thought your childhood was choc-ful of bike rides, fishing, and other wholesome activities Andy…!