Photo: Stocksy United
It only took me losing my cool for my kids to be convinced they could make their own fun. In one of those tirades that we parents let loose from time to time (every weekend), I suggested to (yelled at) my two sons that perhaps it was time to turn off the TV and head outside. Right. Now.
?Only boring people get bored,? I called out in my best singsongy voice as I pushed them through the door. I then patted myself on the back and immediately returned to work (checked my social media feeds). A few minutes later, the mothering instinct kicked in, and I slipped outside to see how they were faring. I couldn?t believe my eyes.

My youngest, about eight at the time, was sitting on a rock in front of our house watching my oldest, then 10, as he made his way up and down the block, rolling a tire. Ethan had found it in the garage, pushed it out into the street, and now, like a scene out of some 1920s movie, was amusing himself by seeing how far he could make it roll. They were calling out instructions to each other, strategizing and laughing. My laptop stayed inside, forgotten, as I watched them have the best time ever. With the slightest push, they had rediscovered their imaginations. And in the process, we were reminded just how fantastic it feels to simply have time?uninterrupted, unstructured, slower than dial-up Internet time.
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