Processing Data Request - Please Await Response


We've been working on Toot's handwriting for a while and to be quite honest, she was getting a little bored.

Well bored enough to just get up and swan off into a different room.

So I took the hint (astute mummy that I am) and decided to try maths instead.

We started off with the really simple questions, "If you have one orange and I give you another orange, how many oranges do you have?"

Then I started to just ask her straight out "What's 4 +5?"

And do you know what, she got every last one of them right. Sometimes I held my fingers up to signify the numbers and sometimes I didn't. Sometimes she made a point of counting my fingers and sometimes she didn't even bother to look at me, she just answered.

Twenty minutes flat and she had it nailed.

Excuse me for a second...

Climb up onto the roof...

Hold curiously heavy preschooler aloft...

Quickly realise upper arms aren't quite up to the challenge and decide to get this over with as quickly as possible...

Clear throat...

"Attention everyone. I give you my daughter. It turns out numbers are her thing. She is a genius. Ask whatever you need of her and she will provide you with the answer and wisdom which you so desire"

Ahem

Cut to the next day...

Nana called round for a visit after work and being the pain in the ass showoff proud mummy that I am, I decided to display my daughter's mathematical prowess.

"Toots, what's 4 + 5?"

*blank stare*

Crap

"Toots, what's 4 +5?"

"In a second, mummy"

Crap

It seems that the child has inherited my genetic defect.

My brain operates using a sort/store/file system. I wasn't born with a discard/delete/destroy feature built in. This means that while I remember almost everything (just ask the husband), instantaneous data retrieval is almost impossible.

It seems the child has inherited the same brain function.

So....

Back on the roof, check...

Curiously heavy preschooler held aloft, check....

Bingo wings flapping gently in the wind, check...

Clear throat...

"Attention everyone. I give you my daughter. It turns out numbers are her thing. She is a genius.

Please note that a minor defect due in no small part to her mother's complete inability to dump junk and rubbish from her tiny little mind may cause a brief delay in my daughter providing a response to your request.

However, I hope you are somewhat placated by the fact that when my daughter is in her 30s she will recall the hot beverage drinking preferences of each and every person she has met.

Ask whatever you need of her and she will provide you with the answer and wisdom which you so desire.

But if you could just give her a wee second, that'd be great.

Thanks.

That is all"

5 comments:

  1. Ah, genetics. This made me smile at 4am up with the cough I got from one of my kids. Keep up the good work, you're daughter is clearly a smarty pants like her mom!

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  2. Ha. That? Is life with a preschooler.

    (Also? Hubris.)

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  3. My daughter does things like that all of the time! They will do things on their own clock and I believe decide to make us look dumb sometimes or rather a bit crazy!

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  4. Loving your site so much, I must give you an award! Stop by and pick it up and make sure to encourage Toots. She cracks me up.

    http://funkyfoodallergies.blogspot.com/

    ReplyDelete

Your comments make me smile. I love that you stopped by.