Go dig a hole or something

School’s out for summer! Every time. Without fail, I sing the song from Grease. I can’t help it.

I don’t have much of a singing voice. I compare myself to Cameron Diaz’s character in My Best Friend’s Wedding when they’re singing in the restaurant. But nonetheless, I literally sing all the time. I make up songs at random and sing to my kids constantly. I sing one liners and then carry on the conversation as if nothing just happened.

There I go on one of those tangents I told you about. Silly me.

Anyway, back to summer. I don’t like to be bored. So I never am. I will always find something to do, or read or write. Or just rest.

When I was a kid, I once told my grandma that I was bored. She told me that I must just be a boring person. I never said those words again. And even though I thought that I hated her for those harsh words, I actually live by them now.

So naturally, I don’t like hearing my kids say that they are bored. When Anthony was a youngster, he told me he was bored. I told him that he needed to figure it out. I said to go dig a hole or something. And he whined that he had already dug a hole. I couldn’t help but laugh. Then I simply told him to go dig a better hole.

Now, my daughters try to use the infamous line. Oh no kiddos! I make sure to instill in my kids that I cannot always entertain them and that they need to learn to stay occupied or just learn to be bored.

However, I do my best to keep them busy in the summertime and to have things that we can do to get out of the Arizona heat. It’s not technically summer yet, but the temps are rising quite high. Anyway, I think I found a place to keep in my repertoire. The Children’s Museum of Phoenix. And quite honestly, I was so entertained by their creativity. They proved to me the other day, that they are all capable of entertaining themselves and each other for hours. If you haven’t been, I highly recommend finding a children’s museum in your area.

Here in Phoenix, there is a stage area with a curtain and props. The kiddos jumped up on there and did improv plays for the adults that were standing in the area. Most had to stand because there don’t seem to be any adult sized chairs around. I found a way to fit my booty in one though. Because that’s what I do.

Check me out. That was not comfy.

I sat for a long time in that tiny chair, watching my kids interact with other kids that they did not know and include every other child that stepped onto that stage. There were no racial barriers or social injustices. Just a bunch of kids displaying a picture of what God intended for humanity to be all along.

I watched intently as kids giggled their way through their on the fly lines. I watched as children made eye contact with me, desperate for the attention of their parents, who were mostly on their phones or engaged in other conversations. I watched as random other kids pulled up chairs to sit in the audience and how they were absolutely mesmerized by their peers showcasing such talent.

My heart was so happy and I honestly could have sat there all day. There did not seem to be an end to their creativity. I think that if we had stayed in just that section of the museum, then they would have put on a 47 part play.

The last exhibit we let them go to was the foam soap area outside. We stepped out and ate lunch on the ground and watched as our kiddos ran into the soap machine and got covered from head to toes in bubbles. And then into a sprinkler to rinse off. Only to get covered in bubbles again. I think that my girls got the most soaked of the bunch. Because I have taught them that it's ok to get wet and dirty. That when we go to do something fun, that that’s exactly what I want them to do. I’m not going to lie, half of the reason that I let them go is because I hope that they’ll pass out on the way home. I like to have fun and expel my energy with my kids. But let’s face it, I’m almost forty and these kids wear me out.

It happens to be Memorial Day weekend, so there’s a lot going on. We went to the water park the next day. And then church on Sunday about took me out. And I look forward to a BBQ at my sister’s house next. But I’m spent. They had better not come at me for the next week with any of this “I’m bored” nonsense. Because I think I’ll just have to tell them, “well, go dig a hole or something.”