The Square Root Of Where the French Toast is My Phone

I’ve always been a procrastinator, especially when it came to math homework. I was so good at procrastinating that often I’d forget to even DO my math homework. I actually don’t know all of my times tables and just the thought of learning my times tables makes me especially cranky. I’d rather clean my house.

Then I married a man who loves numbers, who spends his free time looking at numbers and his working hours managing numbers. He even SPEAKS in numbers. I used to think he just was a “talker” but we’ve been married for 10 years and I’m starting to notice that he speaks in WORD PROBLEMS which is probably why I think he talks a lot. Math makes time slow. Don’t argue with me it’s science. He has a unique talent, a special ability to turn any topic into a word problem.

So for fun, give me a topic in the comment section. Then I will chose one randomly and bring up the subject to Derrick in a conversation. Then I will report back to you with a word problem. BAM!

In other news, I seem to have lost my cell phone. It’s a weird feeling. I feel like I’m trapped in the woods with nothing but a ham radio and a pocket full of matches.  I keep thinking of things I want to tell my friends via text, and then I realize I don’t actually know my friends phone number because? They are NUMBERS.

Other than having my hatred of numbers come back to bite me today, it’s been pretty peaceful. The baby is turning into a boy faster than I can handle. He’s talking all the time. I have no idea what he’s saying, but my favorite part is when he gets upset with his cars and tells them off with his jibber jabber. If he’s especially angry with his cars, he tells them off, throws them and yells, “NIGHT NIGHT!” with authority.

A child who shall remain nameless has turned into a booger eater. I’ve tried my best to dissuade him, but he seems to have made it a matter of pride. He informed me, “I’m the only one in this family who likes to eat boogers. I’m a booger man.”

Help. Me.

Yesterday was a free for all with a biting incident, a dirt fight and a mommy who declared herself champion of the world just for getting dinner on the table. I made a chocolate cake and the boys rose up and called me blessed. I don’t know how to keep children from eating boogers, from biting, or from throwing dirt all over the place. I also don’t know how to keep track of my cell phone or how to keep the kids from harassing the neighbors through the fence. I DO know how to get little boys to say, “I love you MOM!” and hug you real tight.

Dessert. Make desserts.

For fun I decided to see what he thought of a subject that Missindeedy threw out, one that I knew was close to his heart, “The Transubstantiation of Christ”. My sister threw out the word “pedantric’ on Facebook which I think we can all agree doesn’t help anyone.

I started to type out what he was saying, and then I realized this experiment will never work. Since I truly do NOT have any idea what he’s saying half the time, my transcription came out as such:

“we’re talking about transubstantiation, the doctrine was formally defined by the fourth latrine council of 1215 but it wasn’t until 1551 until they really defended their position something reformation because they were bashing it mixing it with Aristotle blah blah blah. Take 4th latrine council and 1215 and 1551 
Council of trent something something
it’s just cool that the 4th latrine council, 1215 and 1551 and if you divide any of those numbers by 3 you have something number 4 division multiply.”
And I think I spelled the name of the council wrong, because I’m pretty sure it wasn’t named after a toilet. 
Thanks everyone who put a subject matter in the comment section. I didn’t realize, at the time of this brilliant idea, that I was giving MYSELF a word problem. BOO!

I complained. Then he drew me a picture.

Sidenote: I still am not sure what transubstantiation means. Have a Happy Wednesday!

19 thoughts on “The Square Root Of Where the French Toast is My Phone

  1. Dessert. The great secret of the world. It's hard to be angry with someone who gives you a cookie. I used to bake cookies for my adult students all the time. The loved me. I felt like a celebrity, walking the halls. Sorry about the boogers. We have our challenges with them here, sometimes, too. We also have a nail biter. And s who someone who licks everything and everyone. Probably, they are all the same person. I could lose my cell phone and not even notice.


  2. Transubstantiation of Christ. (for the topic)

    And, who knew that all it took was homemade chocolate cake to make our littles arise and call us blessed? Must. Try. That.

    I'll send a hankie. If nothing else, maybe you can wrap it around his nose and call him Booger Bandit until he decides to use tissues?


  3. Booger Bandit might work!
    And Transubstantiation of Christ is too easy for him! I casually mentioned it and he started talking about how there's something in physics that backs that up?? My brain just..explodes.


  4. I also hate math. I oftentimes share the secret with my small group girls at church that math really isn't all that necessary (unless you homeschool your kids and one of them is “gifted” and starts doing math you can't even pronounce. then it can be a problem. but that's why he has a dad, right?)

    The dessert theory is right on. I always say Jillian Michaels is so angry and mean because it's been so long since she's had a cookie.

    I also have a booger eater. Is it your middle child?


  5. Mine is my middle child. Who is eight. EIGHT! Eight year olds don't eat their boogers! Weird homeschooler!
    I just read this post out loud to Mike and we've decided that you & I are living in parallel universes (universi?) The commonalities are just too many for any other explanation. I mean, hello? We even both have that yellow Land's End puffy vest.


  6. My one who eats them insists they are delicious and is not swayed by the horror stories I tell him. I plan on sending him off to school and I wonder what he'll do if the other children tease him. I'm guessing…BITE THEM! (not that the booger eater was the biter)(maybe he was)

    You know sometimes I wonder how my husband and I managed to get together. We are that different. I pretty much hardly know what he's talking about and he NEVER knows what I'm talking about. I can only blame it on lust. He was too hot to handle, and so I married him.
    One year for valentines day, he wrote me a computer program. You enter a number and the computer gives you a compliment.


  7. You ALWAYS brighten my day. Laughing about the booger eater. My dad caught me eating boogers when I was little and I distinctly remember the embarrassment at getting caught at something I knew was gross and I distinctly remember his words to me, “ELIZABETH FAYE! If you're that hungry go eat some peanut butter and crackers!” LOL!


  8. I went looking for the article link on how eating boogers is good for you… but then I got so grossed out I had to walk away. Personally I pretend that boogers don't actually exist.

    Chocolate cake? Your children were right to rise up and bless you.


  9. Booger-man – hahaha – always funnier when it is someone else's kid, I know.
    C has a fascination with the scientific name for his boy part- and constant questions about it. I would take boogers over the questions. Also, I would rise up and bless anyone who made me a chocolate cake. But right now I have to separate a new train-track-from-grandma-dispute.


  10. I'm not a numbers person either. I believe we're in one camp or the other in this life, and my family is firmly in the words camp. I just crawled out of the h-e-double hockey sticks also known as 'online tax organizer'. I finally succeeded in hitting submit, and am just hoping they don't email me back with questions.

    Hope your weekend is math-free and full of chocolate cake and kleenex!


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