Braniac

Henry came home from school one day all hot and bothered. Completely flabbergasted, he went on and on about this kid at school who couldn't add numbers in his head-- or something like that. I don't remember exactly what the issue was. Anyway, I told him to calm down and to give the kid a break.
 
Henry started rummaging through the fridge and I went on to explain that God gave everyone different brains. "Some people's brains are really good at figuring out math problems, and some people's brains are good at writing..."

Henry seemed to be completely ignoring me. Cutting me off mid-sentence and with a mouth full of food, he walked away saying in all sincerity, "Well, God gave me a smart brain."

At least he was listening.