Last Sunday had to be the worst, most boring, terrible, nothing-to-do Sunday in the history of all time.
It was raining. There was no electricity. ALL my friends were out doing cool things. And I was STUCK at home, with a pesky brother. UGH!
“I know! Why don’t you play with your toys?” Amma said, when I told her I was bored.
Parents are so strange. Sometimes they come up with what they think are these awesome ideas that no one else on the planet has come up with. If I wanted to play with my toys, I’d be doing that wouldn’t I?
“Do you want to go cycling?”
“It’s raining Amma.”
“Oh, right! I know! Let’s study for your ASSET test?”
WHY did I ever open my big fat mouth? Also, remember what I said about parents and their weird sense of what a good idea was? How will studying for a test in December make me less bored in November? Also, studying as a cure for boredom? NO!
Amma must have read the look on my face right.
“Ok, ok. Let’s play something. Monopoly?”
Umm… No. Amma uses that as an excuse to get us to do mental math (“If I give you this 500 how much change will I get for 230?”) Also, she is a really mean landlord. She builds loads of hotels on expensive properties and if we don’t have money she takes our properties away. And we’re her kids!
Fight it out
“Do you want to play Nerf wars with us?” I ask, pretty sure she will say no. Amma says she’s a pacifist which means she is a lover of peace. She doesn’t even like the fact that me and pesky brother have Nerf guns.
“Ok!” she said, surprising me. I guess she was getting bored of hearing me whine that I was bored.
Amma looked at the weapon we gave her.
“What? Why do I get the smallest one? I’m the biggest, I should get the biggest one.”
Umm ok, I thought that as a pacifist she might want a smaller, less lethal weapon. I handed her mine anyway.
I have to say, that for a pacifist, Amma fought dirty. She had no respect for our bases, or the “no shooting when gathering stray ammo” rule, and she kept laughing when our aim was off and we missed her. No respect for the enemy. Plus, she managed to round up all the ammo for herself and refused to give it back, saying we had nothing worth trading them for.
We had no choice but to gang up and fight back.
“Two against one? You can’t do that to your own mother!”
Oh! So now we’re related?
I want to say we won. But we didn’t. All I will say is that the next time I’m bored on a rainy, Sunday afternoon, I am not going to tell my mother.
