I’m Booooooored!

Dylan came to me after second breakfast and told me “I’m sooooo booooored!” which is code for “Jacob gets to do all the really cool things like mowing grass on the riding mower and shooting the shotgun with Papa and I don’t get to because they say I’m too little and being too little sucks!”

“Hmmmmmmm,” I say. “What do you think would make your boredom better?”

“I think watching SpongeBob would be better!” he says helpfully. Sorry, kid. This is a SpongeBob free zone today and maybe for life, but I feel your pain.

“I have a better idea!” I say. “Do you like to paint?”

“Like painting pictures of sharks and dinosaurs and trucks?”


“Yeah, that would be fun. Where’s the paper?”

“Well, I don’t have any paper, but I do have a porch. My walls need painting! And I would just LOVE to have sharks and dinosaurs and chickens and trucks all over it.”

Well, my walls really do need painting! I figured maybe, just maybe, I’d be able to get the breakfast dishes finished and the lunch started before I needed to come up with a new project, like planting seeds or repotting plants.

Well, THAT respite didn’t last but about 60 seconds. The plaintive call of “MEEEEEEMAW” came drifting down the hallway.

“What is it?” I replied. “I need a paper towel…I didn’t mean to spill it.” He didn’t need to spill Yoohoo over my computer last night, either, as I recall.

“Are you standing on my carpet with painty feet?”

“Uhhhhhh…..I don’t think so!”

*sigh* That carpet is really going to have to be replaced. But maybe not just yet. I’m sure the summer will have way more paint, blood, fish guts, etc., in store for the carpet.

So, I replaced his paint, the porch floor has a bright blue blotch (it needed repainting, too!) and instructed him to stay on the porch. I went back to attempting to fill the dishwasher. For about one plate.

“Meeeemaw!” said Jacob. “Could I paint, too?”

“Yes, honey, let me get you a palette (a foam plate) and a brush!” No sooner had I loaded Jacob down with paint than Dylan was empty. When I had Dylan’s paint reloaded, Jacob’s was empty. Papa by this time had made it onto the porch to sit in my rocking chair and admire their work.

“I don’t think we need to paint over this at all! I LIKE it!” he declared, which is very weird. The porch is white, which is Papa’s favorite wall color. I wanted to paint the porch in a beach scene with blue sky, palm trees, and ocean waves which, as you can probably imagine, is a point of discord in our marital harmony. To find out that he preferred porch walls that looked as though they were covered in graffitti by elementary school gang bangers was a little disconcerting.

“Look Meemaw! I wrote in Chinese on the door!”

Heh. Well, I thought I might be able to finish the dishes, then the phone rang so that my former DIL could tell me that my oldest granddaughter is probably going to need surgery. And then the boys came back inside for candy. Then SwampMan came back inside to explain to me why the screen door is not yet fixed and that it will require a trip to the hardware store. “And how come lunch isn’t ready yet?”

That dull thudding sound you can probably hear from there is my head banging against the wall.

Maybe I can get the breakfast dishes finished while they argue about who is the biggest Justin Bieber fan and who is going to get Justin Bieber dolls and who is going to get Bratz dolls for Christmas.


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