Proof that the boy is only half of my genetic makeup.

(Or somewhere thereabouts. Percentages scare me.)

I admit I am not a math genius. It has been that way since, well, I would count the years, but I would probably count wrong anyways. Numbers are > than my brain.

Anyways, The Talker is showing himself to be much more like his momma in the math department. This afternoon I quizzed him.

"So we have 11 eggs in the carton. M&M laid one less than the other birds. Roadrunner and Gold Diamond each laid the same number of eggs. How may eggs did your hen lay?

That's easy, Dad. M&M laid 1 one and the others each laid five. Oh wait, you said she laid one LESS than the others, so M&M laid 3 and Roadrunner and Gold Diamond each laid 4."

So at 8 years old, the boy has basic computational skills that I still so don't possess. Now, all of this just leaves me wondering one thing. How how long until he can take me in arm wrestling, too?