Bored, for me, is more of a sleep deprived state of apathy in which I feel the desire and need to fulfill my existence by doing something productive, but not so productive as to be not fun, like dishes or removing the taco drips from the front of the oven. I would love to jump up and create the world’s finest scrapbook page or sew my son a Harry Potter wand that is soft so he quits jabbing people with pencils and paintbrushes and the like. The trouble is, I’m too tired. I would ask for a break, but what I really need is a big nap, three hours to clean the house, and then maybe I’d have the energy to not be so apathetic. The trouble with this kind of bored is that I feel like a total loser because I’m not getting anything accomplished at all, and I hate that. I feel like the entire past week has been a waste because I’ve been functioning on this level.

On the flip side, when Jonas is bored, he gets bursts of energy and creativity that would make modern day champions of world domination envious. Jonas doesn’t just sit like a lump on the couch and stare like his addlepated mother. No, he think of uber cool things to do, experiments to engage in, like nuking leather gloves. In fact, Jonas has recently conducted several experiments in the department of microwave technology. Sunday he decided to make himself popcorn for breakfast. Just so you know, you don’t really have to remove the bag from the plastic cover before insertion into the microwave, like it directs. It will explode off the popcorn and melt into a stringy, flesh burning plastic nastiness that you can try to scrape off the rotating glass bottom of the microwave for a month before deciding that this unsightly blemish actually gives it “character.” The burnt popcorn smell every time I cook anything gives the kitchen character too and should not reflect unnecessarily harshly. Now, the leather gloves, those really were never meant to be nuked. They really, really stink when they start to smolder.

I have no idea why the microwave has become such a great outlet for Jonas’ boredom, but I do know that if he cooks one more thing that little machine is going to die just like the last one did a few months ago. They aren’t designed for three year olds, and I do keep him away from it, but people, seriously, sometimes I need to do important things outside of the kitchen, like floss my teeth or poop, and Jonas’ motto is carpe diem.