Ben came rushing in tonight from track practice. He has to clean all the sweat off himself at top speed, throw on his scout uniform, gulp down dinner, and head out to his scout meeting. Tuesday nights are always a blur of running from one place to another.
As he came dashing in I handed him his plate and said, "You've got five minutes to eat this!"
"Well, that's four more than I need," he said taking his plate and running off.