Will you play with me?

The other day Mr 5 was home from school with temps and a nasty headache. Unfortunately this didn't result in dampening his spirits, neither did it entice him to spend the day curled up on the couch watching cartoons (which is what I wanted to do). He was bouncing of the walls with excitement and joy, he was busy and vivacious....the day descended into a slow form of torture.
    Obviously he wasn't as sick as previously thought, so I had Miss Tornado Two and Mr Fun-loving Five at home with me all day.......joy!
I tried to do the washing, I tried to vacuum, I tried to cook & clean, but I had a constant companion hovering at my elbow. "I'm hungry", "I want your help on the computer", "Can you read me some books", "I need to go to the toilet...and you need to come with me", "I'm thirsty" and the question, the dreaded question he asks continually, "Will you play with me?"

I have no problem playing with my children. I love a good game of hide and seek. A game of tickle monster is one of my all time favourites and running around with a soccer ball...pure joy. But the game Mr 5 was so desperate to play (and I was so desperate to avoid) involved action figures.....cue glazed eyes and vacant expression.
   All of his figures seem to have exceedingly complicated names. Mr 5 can rattle them all off like they're his best friends and then, get this, he expects me (me!) to remember them. He then expects me to recall the ludicrous super-powers that each character possesses. So, not only do I have to remember what Super-Ultra-Humungo-Mega-Dude is called but also that he has super-strength, invisible undies, a jet-fart pack and laser beams for eyes....Ummmmm...Yeah right.

Being that he has just celebrated his birthday he now has a whole array of fresh super-dudes for me to remember. I do my best, I really do, but there is a part of me that just wants to curl up and die when he requests to play with them with me. I try to concentrate, to focus on the complicated storyline he concocts, but, before long I'm yawning and I can't help thinking of all the other things I should be doing. It is coma-inducing boring and requires all my self-control not to fall asleep.

Later though, my foray into super-dude territory pays super-dividends. At bedtime we have a cuddle, Mr 5 holds my face in his hands and says "I love it the most when you play with me." Then, at that moment, I decide that being bored s***less is totally worth it. And guess what? The next day I play it all over again.