I whipped around to make sure I was still talking to my wife. Not that I didn’t think she was smart, but we usually don’t cite our sources during conversation. If we did, my footnotes would be littered with names such as The Farrelly Brothers, The Three Stooges, The Beastie Boys, and so on.
When did she become an information center of knowledge, backed by research and studies and clinical trials? As she continued, I made faces at my son…
“….but was rebuked when in 1999 by a team in…”
Now, of course I usually hang on my wife’s every word, but in this case I was having trouble staying focused. I felt like a slouch of a parent. While I’m You Tubing talking huskies, she’s burrowing through the archives of medical journals in search of improving our son’s quality of life.
“…so you can see the pros of going that route. You know?”
Crap, now she’s waiting for my input, and I’ve got that baby monkey song stuck in my head.
“Well, yeah, it certainly stands to reason.”
Silence, only the cheerful sounds of The London Bridge Is Falling Down filled the room. She knew I was full of it. Yet she still loves me. She can do the research for both of us. I’ll just try to make him laugh between meals. Research shows that that’s good too, right?