Lent is not for sissies.

It was one day into Lent and things were a bit testy around here.

We arrived home from basketball practice, which was immediately after school, and people were tired and hungry, which tends to equal cranky. Moods around here are so affected by blood sugar levels that I sometimes bring the boys a snack for the ride home, and we live less than a mile from their school.

On this particular day, I did not bring a snack, a sad fact which was compounded by the weather – cold, rainy and miserable. When we got home, the boys wanted to fling themselves onto the couch and recoup.

“Don’t forget,” I said as we walked into the house, “no television. It’s Lent!”

They could not believe their ears. Yes, they understood that we as a family had agreed to give up T.V. and our newly-acquired and insanely fun video system, the Wii. But they didn’t think it would all happen so soon. And especially not a day like this day!

The reality of that decision hit hard that afternoon. A few of us took it a bit harder than others, and I’ll admit here that I was a person in that category. What have we done, I thought as I looked out the window to the chilly rain.

I realized, as I faced a room full of worn-out, housebound boys, that this was absolutely the kind of day for which television was invented.

But it was the first day of Lent. And we have turned off the T.V. for Lent. And in spite of how much easier it would have been to turn on the T.V., I sent the boys on their way, off to figure out how to entertain themselves.

One boy begrudgingly headed upstairs to his room. I thought perhaps he was going to nap as a protest to the radical change in our post-practice leisure. But he who had voiced the loudest disappointment when reminded of our Lenten sacrifice spent hours that afternoon reading a book on his bed.

Another boy took out Chutes and Ladders. I was pleased and surprised; this boy hadn’t shown interest in such a game for some time, having moved on to Battleship and Chess. I walked into the front room after he started playing to discover it was all set up – with tiny ninjas as the playing pieces.

The afternoon passed. The boys read library books and played board games. After a while Charlie and Augie set up a scene on the coffee table that channeled a battle from an epic civil war film. It included every last man from our vast plastic army guy collection.

Closer to dinner, someone wanted to start a Nerf gun war, and I will admit my nerves started feeling a bit frazzled. The constant clicking made me feel like a tic was coming on, so I sent them to the garage for the final minutes before we ate.

As I was cleaning up after dinner, Charlie came into the kitchen. "Do you want to play Store,” he asked. I eagerly accepted.

"Good," he said, suddenly speaking with a Texas accent. "I'm a gonna need horse carcass, antelope carcass, and some dung."

"Right," I said, thinking this was not how I remember playing Store. I handed him a chunk of leftover muffin.

"You serve it all rolled up together like this," he drawled. "I like it!"

Suddenly, the creativity and fun of the afternoon made me remember why turning off the television is a good idea no matter what the season. It reminded me, too, of the importance of pushing ourselves to do more – or perhaps less.