The doldrums: six forty-five a.m.

G: I'm boooooooored.
Me: Go get dressed, draw, read a book, play with toys, watch TV, bother the cat.
G: I don't want to do any of that.
Me: I've got bad news for you, G. Big kids and grownups are responsible for their own entertainment.
G: I don't want to be responsible for my own entertainment.
Me: Ah, I see. You'd like me to wear a red clown nose and put my pants on backward and walk around on my hands to amuse you. You'd like me to dance up and down and sing and skip to lighten the burden of your ennui.
G (half laughing, half mad): Yes!
Me: Too bad. Go get dressed.

I know it sounds mean, but it's for her own good. I was an only child until I was almost nine, and the self-entertaining skills I learned then are still with me today. If I'm left on my own to do what I like, I'm never bored. (Long Friday-afternoon meetings and days at jury duty are another story.) She'll thank me for it twenty years from now, I swear!