Boredom

I was talking to my mom the other day about Zippy getting ready to start kindergarten, and she reminded me that, after a day or two of school, I'd taken to walking back home after walking to school, because school was boring. I don't remember much of it, but I do remember that I gave some of the money from my bank to one of the little girls next door - I don't remember if it was Angela or Danielle that I gave it to, but I do (vaguely) remember my generosity.

When my mom sorted out what I'd been doing, she was (rightfully, I guess) upset with me. Five year old should not be walking home from school alone, they should be in class, where they belong (and OUT of Mommy's hair!), instead of wandering around the neighborhood by themselves. My explanation for going home? Kindergarten was boring. Heck, I could already read, and I knew all the stuff they were saying, so I didn't see any purpose in attending class.

My mom made me go back to school, because we all (apparently) need to learn how to deal with boring situations and she didn't want me to miss any new information the teacher might be presenting. Bah. I'm still not good at being bored, and still hate sitting in (most) classes.

So much for teaching me how to tolerate such situations. I know you tried, Mom.
Here's hoping Zippy will have a better time in school.