Henry’s Breakfast Club: What’s Your Morning Must-Have?
Every farm has its rituals, but here on the Funny Farm, mornings belong to Henry. If you’re new here, Henry is the donkey with the personality of a stand-up comic, the appetite of a teenage boy, and the sass level of a reality TV judge. And every sunrise, like clockwork, he hosts his very own version of “Breakfast Club.” Forget the movie—this one has more hay, more chaos, and far less detention.
Henry’s club doesn’t have formal invitations. Membership is granted if you can make it to the fence line before he starts braying like an alarm clock nobody asked for. His bray isn’t subtle, either—it’s the kind of sound that makes you wonder if the barn is auditioning for a horror soundtrack. But for Henry, that call is sacred: the breakfast buffet is open, and he’s ready to take attendance.
First to arrive? The chickens. They waddle over like nosy PTA moms, clucking about who laid what egg yesterday. They’re not shy about pecking at whatever Henry drops, and Henry doesn’t mind. Sharing is part of the Breakfast Club code.
Next comes the goats—chaotic little bandits who act like they’ve RSVP’d but forgot the dress code. They’ll climb anything to get closer to Henry’s hay pile, sometimes even Henry himself, which earns them one of his signature side-eyes. But let’s be real—Henry secretly loves the attention.
By the time the pigs shuffle in, you’d think we were hosting a five-star buffet. The pigs are the unbothered ones, rolling in like VIPs who know they’ll get fed regardless. Henry, however, insists on reminding everyone that he’s the true founder of this breakfast movement. He’s not just eating—he’s curating an experience.
And me? I’m the underpaid, over-caffeinated maître d’. My job is to make sure everyone gets their share without turning the whole event into a WWE smackdown. Sometimes it works, sometimes I end up refereeing a goat-versus-chicken standoff while Henry dramatically sighs like, humans really are useless, aren’t they?
The best part of Henry’s Breakfast Club isn’t the hay, the grain, or even the snacks I sneak him when no one’s looking (donkeys love apple slices, FYI). It’s the ritual—the way every creature shows up, rain or shine, because breakfast isn’t just a meal here. It’s community. It’s laughter. It’s Henry being the glue (and the diva) that pulls the whole barnyard together.
And here’s where I throw it back to you: what’s your morning must-have? Henry swears by hay with a side of carrots. The goats? Anything they can steal. Me? Coffee. Always coffee. Without it, I’d probably be braying louder than Henry.
So tell me—are you a “don’t talk to me before coffee” type, a smoothie enthusiast, or the kind of person who somehow wakes up chipper without food or caffeine (teach me your ways)? Henry insists that no matter what, everyone needs their own Breakfast Club ritual.
Because at the end of the day—or rather, at the very start of it—the little things that fuel us are what make mornings worth waking up for. Just ask Henry.
