Shooting baskets in the driveway with my older daughter when we are joined by the neighbor boy down the street. He's in third grade and plainly views himself as an interloper—just stands off to the side and only shoots when one of us passes him the ball. But it would be wrong to say he stands to the side shyly as he keeps up a steady stream of rather learned commentary, such as:
"I assume you realize that basketball would not be possible if it weren't for gravity, because you'd shoot and the ball would just float off into space."
This is not the kind of conversation we're used to and I try to rise to the occasion by pointing out that, while true, it's complicated by the fact that everything else, like the hoop and we ourselves, would also be floating off into space. It'd be a crazy game! After a brief but perceptible pause, he replies: "I know that." But I think he hadn't thought of it. Thus the pause, as he considered it for the first time, and I attribute "I know that" to his wounded intellectual pride. According to my own theory, I bested a third grader!
Inside, I cut cake and my girls argue loudly over which piece is bigger. I have to cut a third piece, a sliver, to add to one of the plates. Thankfully, I do not overcompensate and this settles it—evidently doesn't occur to them that by keeping up the argument they could get more and more cake, theoretically. I know, I know, I should let the younger one choose but only after the older one cuts. While eating, they discuss whether "hell" is a swear word. This is more like it! Younger girl argues that it can't be since it's contained within "hello" and: "They wouldn't make it so that you have to swear to say a regular word." Older girl rolls eyes. Immature, smart ass dad tries to think of a regular word with consecutive letters s-h-i-t and briefly wonders whether "base hit" qualifies since the "e" is silent. However,
- it's two words, not one; and
- to count against younger girl's theory, it would have to be pronounced "bās-shit."
So maybe she's onto something!
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