Huckleberry would just love to take me seriously right now, but he can't.  It's too funny.  There is not enough fun on the planet for ol' Huck.  The only reason he ever accomplishes anything like work is the foreknowledge that fun is likely to follow shortly after.

For an eight year old, he has a remarkably broad repertoire of activities which might fall under the category of fun.  Cards, board games,  eating, reading, drawing, playmobil, lego, snacking, playing piano, hide and seek, mealtimes, provoking females, soccer, road hockey, roller blading,  elevensies, stuffy wars (I'll leave that to your imagination), biking, skating, skiing, having people over for dinner.

If nothing else, he is well rounded.

One of my boys asked recently if he could have a snack exactly ten minutes after he got up from lunch.  I said o, come on, you aren't hungry.  He looked shocked  and without guile told me that he was always hungry.  Always.

"So, you are telling me that you are hungry 100% of the time?  When you aren't actually eating, you are hungry, your life is a perpetual sacrifice?"

"Yes.  I am hungry 100% of the time, I'm a boy."

I had a renewed respect for boys.  To live with this burden.  Little wonder there is such camaraderie amongst boy; that level of shared suffering creates profound bounds.

Like war time brotherhood.