“There’s nothing to do and no one to play with!”
That’s my 8-year-old son’s mantra. He’s been known to say it minutes after we arrived home from a fun-filled day.
His life is so sad. I feel really bad for him.
I often tell him I can think of plenty of things to do. His room looks like a Lego land mine went off — he could clean it. He could read. He could put away the laundry or vacuum.
Surprisingly, he doesn’t like my suggestions so he leaves in a huff, goes into his room and shuts the door.
He’s probably not cleaning in there, but he’s apparently found something to do.




