Poopberry Club

Matthew made an exclusive club last week. He told Sarah and Daniel that only 'cool' people can belong to it.

(This reminds me  of a Joke Journal entry from Nathan's childhood. One year his brother gave Christmas gifts consisting of a single piece of paper stating, "Merry Christmas! You belong to My Club.")

The name of the Matt's club was carefully planned, calculated to impress even the most dubious observer. It is The Poopberry Club. 

Daniel came up to me imploring, "What cool thing can I do to convince Matthew I'm neat enough to join his club?" 

Sarah walked pass, telling Matthew he could use her bracelets as tokens of club membership-ness if he would let her join. He inspected the colorful glass beads and charms, made concessions that they were indeed girly, but announced grandly that they would do. Sarah was delighted and passed out bracelets to the members. They set to work making a large club sign announcing their coolness. Their adoration of all things "Calvin and Hobbes" was manifest in the sign: 

"G.R.O.S.S. Get Rid Of Slimy girlS. 

Except Sarah. She's cool."

My curiosity was piqued. I asked Matthew to tell me more about his club. In a conspiratorial whisper he exclaimed, "In the Poopberry Club we do cool things, like finding sticks and poking them into old horse poop in the pasture. The poop stays on the stick, then we put berries on the poop. Those are our "poopberry sticks". When intruders try to invade our clubhouse we'll throw our poopberry sticks at them! Isn't that so exciting?! It's the awesomest idea EVER! Our club ROCKS!"