Boredom

"I'm bored!" The little boy cried.
"Then go play outside," his father said, taking a moment to glance up from his book at the child.
The little boy grumbled, but finally stood and left the room.
"I'm bored!" The little boy cried a second time, tugging at the strings of his mother's apron.
"Why don't you go outside and play with Jimmy?" His mother replied, offering a loving smile as she set down the mixing bowl.
The little boy grumbled again, and stalked out of the kitchen.
"There's nothing to do," the boy groaned as he slumped onto the front steps. He had to squint against the bright sunlight, and an annoying breeze kept tugging at his hair.
Some of the neighborhood kids were taking turns climbing the tree in Jimmy's front lawn, but the boy didn't want to join them.
Climbing trees was so boring.
There was nothing interesting inside the house, and nothing at all outside.
And so the boy stayed sitting on the front steps, grumbling about how bored he was.
When the time finally came for the boy to come inside for dinner, his father found him still sitting on the front steps.
"Have you been here all afternoon?" The boy's father asked.
"I'm bored." The boy said in response, and his father just shook his head.
"I'd be bored too, if all I'd done was sit and focus on my boredom. Now come on in and eat."
The boy stood, and followed his father inside, hoping that dinner wouldn't be boring too,