I didn't know the boy could move so slowly

Hen and I watched a slug move across the tennis court for approximately 30 minutes this morning. Note for those unfamiliar with slugs, Slimy the Slug (Hen named it) moves very, very, extremely slowly. We were playing "tennis" when Hen spotted the slug. Naturally, we stopped the game, laid down on the court next to the slug, and proceeded to place leaves and sticks in front of the slug and then make bets on whether the slug would go around or over the items. Turns out Hen is a bit of a gambler, and also that slugs will usually plow over whatever is in front of 'em. Anyway, after Bean's nap, we headed to Sauvie Island to pick some blackberries. Hen was dawdling so it took us nearly 15 minutes to get to the rows of blackberries. Did I mention it had started sprinkling during this process? But, come on, I'm a native Oregonian, it's not like a few drops of rain are going to -- And then the sky busted open and buckets upon buckets of rain came down. It was Wet, yeah, a capital W, that's how wet it was. I would have even stuck that out, it's only rain and Hen had an umbrella, but I had brought my dinosaur of a camera and there was so much rain I was actually worried it would leak through my bag and damage it. I headed back to the car. Hen did not want to go back to the car. And why would he, the boy had an umbrella. At one point as I pressed forward and he held back, I turned to him and yelled, "My dead grandmother moves faster than you!" It did very little to speed him up, which is unusual for Henry given his penchant for moving quickly every waking millisecond of the day. When he finally reached the car, after I've already paid and loaded the berries picked into the car, read War and Peace, and washed my hair, I ask him why he was going so slowly. And do you know what the little fart said, "I'm a slug."