Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Fast Food

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.

1 comment:

  1. I hate days like these, but the kids seem to thrive when they have them.