On adventures in adults #2

[We enter an elevator mid-conversation…]

You did well back there with the boy at the clinic, dude. I think he may have just been less of an extrovert than you are.

I am definitely an extrovert. It makes sense that he was a little shy if he’s an introvert.

[Older gentleman gives me a weird look. Looks down at the kid.]

Older gent: But can you spell “introvert?”

[I get ready to intervene, but as it turns out I didn’t need to.*]

Introvert. Hm. I.N. – T.R.O – V.E.R.T. Did I get it?

[We exit the elevator and I don’t even look back.]

Yes, little dude – yes, you did.


*I don’t mind this kind of thing at all if she’s chatting with an adult and they try stumping her as part of a game where everyone is already having fun… but just walking into an elevator and straight into a spelling test seems like a) Dancing Monkey territory or b) a blatant attempt to take her down a peg. I am very happy to (sweetly) tell people off when necessary.

On adventures in adults #1

[I was getting my blood drawn. The technician was quite amused by Allie and started chatting with her. It emerged that I’m 42 years old and she is seven.]

Technician: So… How many times older than you is your mother?

Easy! She’s six times older than me because 42 divided by 7 is six. Which means that she is 35 years older than me – because five groups of 7 is 35. That won’t work next year, but then I can always just subtract – there are always lots of ways to work things out.

Technician: Oh! 

I see I also guessed the correct number of vials for your blood, Mum. He DID take three!

On the human thesaurus.

[I hand Allie a new mechanical pencil.]

Oh! Look at you, my little purple pencil… You are so pristine, so immaculate, so unsullied!

On gardening.

What are you up to, kiddo?

I am currently tending to our grass.

On surprises.

Mum. When you have a moment, I would like to show you something highly irregular.

On truth.

Fools aren’t born… They’re made.

On bioengineering.

Mum. Hold everything. Did you know that we actually have nearly all the supplies we need to make a human ear?

All we need now is an incubator and a mouse!!!!!!

On information.

[Watching documentary on the origins of the universe]

I love it when they go over the data.

On essentials.

Hey kiddo, I see you’ve brought your calculator to breakfast. Are you planning to do some computation while you eat?

[Fixes me with a cold, fishy stare.]


On the harsh realities.

The world just really isn’t set up for people like our family.

On the mum of mischief.

Mum, I just noticed you walk just like Loki. [Watches me sit down] Ah! And you sit just like him, too.

Maybe that’s why I like him so much – we have the same body language?

Yeah, you’re pretty alike – you have those high cheekbones, too.

I hope I don’t give really bad advice like Loki?

Ha, no. Let’s face it – that would be exceptionally bad for homeschool.

On an argument between two gentlemen.

[The assignment was to write a rhyming poem using Shakespearean insults and language.]

Shakespearean Insult Poem

Thou beef-witted, beetleheaded bugbear,
Thou canst not have her, she is so fair.

Nay, thou rough-hewn, dizzy-eyed, half-faced cloakbag of guts,
I am the swain for her, I shall wield mine sword and give thee cuts!

Fie, I am the better sword-fighter, thou art just a puny loser –
Thou beslubbering barnacle, thou shalt truly lose her.

Pish! Thou canst not fool me; I have seen thee in action.
But thou art cowardly, it is I with the true passion.

Hark! Here comes the lady…

Ye slimy dog-hearted louts! You darest yell in front of my door?
You are bumptious. And you are craven. And I… require more.

On What The Hell?

[Allie has been blasting Adele’s “21” on repeat. She pauses and comes into the office.]

You know, the lyrics to these songs don’t sound like an actual adult. They are more dramatic and immature – kind of like a teenager. I mean, I still like it, but…

On wishful thinking.

Hey buddy, I think your music may be a little loud.

WHAT???? Sorry, could you speak up?

Ha. I think your music might be a bit loud – especially since you couldn’t hear me.

Oh, come on, Mum – it’s not too loud, I’m practically a teenager in most respects!

On strategies.

Sometimes I recite the St. Crispin’s Day speech under my breath while I work on Math problems because it helps me think.

On the humour of it.

Arrrrgh! I’m getting distracted by Shakespeare AGAIN!


On advanced note-taking.


Did you know I can take my Cornell notes in the dark? The computer gives off enough light, and this way, I can see the details of Professor Cox’s presentation better.

On genuinely spectacular eyerolls.

[We are leaving dance, and Allie is not pleased about it.]

Argggg I wish I could stay all night – now I have to wait until TOMORROW to go back.

That’s true, but you have modern to look forward to in the meantime.

Mum. You are aware, aren’t you, that just saying a word with particular emphasis doesn’t make my frustration any easier, or tomorrow arrive any faster. You cannot alter space-time with a mere word.

On leaving one’s room.

UGH, yes! Let’s go. For I need to get out of this pestilential place!

On me being annoying.

[I am joking around with Allie, conducting conversations based entirely in movie quotes.]

Mu-uuuuuum! Can you stop it with the allusions?