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I cringe when Hamlet asks, "Mama, wanna play with me?" Unlike Rain Dog, who knows just what kinds of scenarios go on in miniature train yards and construction sites, I usually end up operating the "machinery"--but not a story to go with it.

It's not that I have no facility for boy toys. The same blank brain strikes when the neighbor's daughter hands over Cinderella and tells me I can "be" her. No, the problem is that I have no idea how to play.

Of course I did play when I was little. With dolls, even. But my memories of play start when I was closer to 8, when my miniature-adult self put Barbie in Nancy Drew-like predicaments.

What about my inability to play bothers me so much? It's not just that I, a writer, can't seem to come up with kid-friendly stories. Mainly, it's the huge body of research that shows how important play is to learning.

So what do I do, other than keep the kid in preschool so I don't stunt his academic growth? I'm not really sure. He likes to be read to, but only at bedtime. He likes certain art projects, but only for a few minutes at a time. His favorite type of activity? The type I'm worst at.