Christmas vacation takes on a whole new vibe when one has to entertain a 12-year-old boy days away from Christmas Day bliss.

It was as if the earth split open and swallowed up any and all options of entertainment the week before Christmas Day.

Suddenly, no book was worth reading, no board game was worth playing and all MeTV options were re-runs.

All the movies had been watched over and over. I was tempted to dig out a DVD from Evan’s Christmas stash just to buy some time. I stuck to my guns. Speaking of guns, I was also the main target of Evan’s Nerf gun attack the first day of vacation.

“Stop shooting your mother!” was said at least three times before all the bullets were collected and disposed of in the trash.

I was trying to spend quality time with my son while he was on holiday break. Instead, I was being ambushed by foam bullets. So I put him to work.

So, with an extra set of hands, I dug into to our quality time. And by quality time, I mean we cleaned his room, vacuumed the living room, dusted furniture and hauled boxes and trash out to the barn.

We were hosting Christmas morning at my house so things needed to be in military order by 8 a.m. for Norma Jean’s pending arrival.

Evan folded blankets and tidied up the living room as I scoured the kitchen and dining room. He can fold a blanket like a champ.

We cleared out the refrigerator and pantry. We cleared cobwebs and destroyed dust bunnies.

I was pretty proud of his efforts to help.

I can’t understand why Evan was so eager to seek refuge at his grandparents that week?

Since we spent the first day of our vacation together sweeping the floors and polishing the stainless steel appliances, I decided the second day of vacation we should do something fun.

Like going to a history museum.

That wasn’t the type of fun Evan had in mind either. Yet, I had been wanting to visit the Carillon Historic Park for a long time. My dad wanted to join us as well, so we made a day of it.

It wasn’t crowded and I learned a lot. The 12 year-old was more impressed with the toy train station than local history (I mean, Dayton is the home of the pop tab kids! Isn’t that exciting?), but he’ll appreciate it in the future I’m sure.

I’m the worst to go to museums or history centers with because I try to read everything. I held up the show trying to absorb all the info while Dad and Evan cruised through without me. I’m sure it was more peaceful that way. All in all, it was a fun day capped off with a visit to the historical brewery next door.

Finally, on vacation day three, Evan had had it. He had decked the halls. He had cleaned. He had been educated. The stretch of boredom has reached epic levels.

So I cashed in my boy mom card and took him to the movies. Folks, I go to the movies a hand full of times a year. I generally only take Evan to the movies if there’s something I want to see as well. I know it’s selfish, but I can’t sit still for two hours. I’m not wired that way.

So I took Evan to see the movie he had been reading books about for a few weeks. Assassin’s Creed was rated PG-13 so I couldn’t use the rating as an excuse not to take him. We went to the theater in Huber so at least we were in recliners as I was bored to tears. It was such a dude movie. Evan, of course, loved it. Historical science fiction is at the bottom of my list of entertainment, folks. In fact, this movie managed to combine everything I hate about movies into one movie. Evan gave it a five-star rating, I however, got a lot of work emails done throughout the duration of the flick.

The sacrifices we make as parents is real, right?

In my defense, I had a cold Diet Coke and managed to glean a little bit about the genre he seems to enjoy at the moment.

And we came back to a sparkling clean house, so I think we all won this round of Christmas vacation.

Now who wants to help me take down the Christmas tree? Anyone?