He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother

I was the den mother for Heath's class today. The cooking volunteer, to be exact. We made Yogurt Parfaits. Heath misunderstood me when we were heading out the door this morning and thought I said, Carfaits. Needless to say, he was a bit bummed that layering vanilla yogurt, granola, blueberries, and strawberries did not include a single car. I suppose he thought we would dump out all the yummies and run Matchbox cars through it.

But we didn't. While he didn't pay much attention to the yogurt delight while we were in the classroom, he did, however, have his interest peaked on the ride home. He managed to inhale what was left of the blueberries, straight out of the bag, leaving his face tinged blue, looking very much like Willy Wonka's Violet Beauregard.

I got invited into the Boy's Only Club while I was in class. Because Heath is your brother, the little guys explained.

What do the boys do in the club? I inquired.

They drink wine and watch football.