All God does is watch us and kill us when we get boring. We must never, ever be boring.
Do you live like that, avoiding boredom? Are you free to chase after dreams? Can you drop everything and reverse course on a whim? Must be nice.
I can’t. I have kids.
People are always saying that life is never boring when you’re a parent. As with most trite throwaway lines used as filler in meaningless conversations, this is patently untrue. Parenthood is profoundly monotonous. You watch the same cartoons over and over, sing the same songs, read the same books, stick to the same schedule, cook the same foods, have the same arguments, fight the same battles, correct the same mistakes, search under the bed for the same monsters.
I remember the pre-kid days:
We could go out at 3 AM to play a drunken game of whiffle-ball in the parking lot of an elementary school. Sometimes, we would just drive, with no real destination in mind and no one screaming in the backseat. There was no need to plan ahead with diapers, snacks, toys, or wipes. Dinner did not have to revolve around what someone else would eat. Everything felt so…open.
Parenting is not entirely dissimilar to prison. Your days are pre-determined, regimented, repetitive. Visitation is limited. There is an underlying fear that some crazy shit is just about to pop off at any minute…
Hold up–that’s why I’m still alive! God isn’t bored by my life because it’s like watching a prison movie! I hope it turns out like The Shawshank Redemption, on the sunny beaches of Mexico, full of hope and uplift. I’m ordering my poster of Rita Hayworth this afternoon…