“What’s two plus three?” Colin asked.
Andrew sat and counted on his fingers as he tried to work out the answer. He’d stopped eating anyway, so Janine and I didn’t mind too much that they were interrupting dinner. We also like to encourage educational activities and both boys were at an age where doing simple mathematics was useful.
“Five!” Andrew said, beaming brightly.
“Correct!” Colin said.
“My turn now. What’s eight plus nine?” Andrew asked.
Colin frowned as he thought hard. He looked down at his hands hidden below the level of the table. It took him a while but he eventually came up with the right answer.
“Seventeen!”
Andrew looked at me to check the answer.
“That’s right, Colin. Well done!” I said.
“I had to use my fingers more than once to work it out, but I did it!” Colin said proudly.
“Now, what’s nine plus nine plus nine plus nine plus nine plus nine plus nine plus nine?”
Andrew pouted. “I’m not playing this game anymore.”
Colin glanced at Janine and I.
“Can you ask the question again?” Janine asked. “I wasn’t listening the first time.”
Colin frowned for a moment, and obviously realised he couldn’t remember how many nines he’d said.
“Mummy, Daddy, what’s nine thousand plus eight hundred?” he asked.
“Nine thousand, eight hundred,” I replied sagely.
Andrew wasn’t to be outdone.
“What’s one buttock plus one buttock?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“A two-buttock!” he said, and giggled.
At that point in time, the conversation deteriorated.
“What’s a smelly bottom plus a bum?” Andrew asked.
I stopped listening, as I was still trying to eat. I knew the discussion was at the stage
where I wouldn’t be able to do both.
Later that night, Andrew brought out one of the books he’d gotten from the library that day. It was a book of mazes. I looked at the first page.
“You have to make sure you don’t go on the dark squares, ‘cause they’re trapdoors,” Andrew explained.
“Okay,” I said, absentmindedly as I tried to trace my way through the maze.
“The ones with the lines are easier,” Andrew told me.
I looked at him blankly. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll show you!”
He took the book off me and turned to the back where all the answers were printed.
“Here!” and he proceeded to trace the line that showed the correct path. “Done it!” he said when he’d finished.
“I see,” I said. I had to admire his intelligence, but I didn’t think his problem solving skills were being stretched.
We were joined by Colin and the two boys started doing the mazes together. Colin had more sense of fair play and tried to do the mazes without the line giving the correct path. He did pretty well, obviously enjoying the challenge.
On one page, Colin was struggling. He’d managed to get three-quarters of the way across the page before getting struck.
“You’re doing well, Colin,” Andrew said encouragingly.
“How did you do it?” Colin asked him, starting to get annoyed.
“I started from here,” Andrew said, pointing to a spot near the exit.