I will be the first one to admit my math skills are woefully lacking. I can balance a checkbook. I can develop … and sometimes actually adhere to … a household budget. And kudos to me that I can even take a spin through the grocery store without catastrophic results. But give me third grade fractions, and it’s *quite* obvious I’m out in the weeds.

Pitiful really.

I rationalize that if God had wanted me to be better at math, he wouldn’t have given us Bill Gates and the miracle of Excel.

*Hallelujah.*

So.

Oldest son helped youngest son with his math homework last night before I came home from work. Oldest son is far *infinitely* more advanced than his mother in math. He is one smart guy. And I’m not just saying it because I’m his mom. He is.

*I swear.*

Did I mention he’s also tall, dark, and handsome? He’s all that too.

Really.

Anyway.

I wanted to check the homework, not because I didn’t trust that the 19-year old knew what he was doing. Rather for the fact that sometimes the 19-year old forgets what it’s like to be 9 years old and his explanations tend to tickle around the edges of being over his brother’s wee head.

Okay. Let’s get real. Over *my *head too.

There. I admitted it. My kid is smarter than me.

But that’s a secret.

*Shhhhh.*

So I look at one of the problems that went something like this …

Maura bought a dozen eggs at the store. On the way home she fell and broke 2/3 of them. How many eggs broke?

I ask youngest son, ‘Show me how you got the answer of 8?’. He immediately looks to older brother with wide, pleading eyes. Mom sighs. And pulls out a piece of paper, *pretending* she knows how she’s going to figure it out.

Rule #1. Never let ’em see you sweat. They can smell fear.

They *so* can.

I draw 12 circles on a piece of paper. I then proceed to draw lines after every 3rd circle, dividing the circles into 4 groups. I immediately realize I’ve just *totally* confused myself.

Hmm. Where was I going with this?

Oldest son smiles indulgently. ‘Mom, that’s *fourths*. You’ve divided that by fourths, not thirds.’

Okay.

*Mr. Smarty Pants.*

Oldest son says, ‘You take the 12 eggs, divide them by 3 (or thirds), then multiply by 2 for the 2/3. You get 8.’

Umm. Yeah. What *he *said.

Geesh. Life can be so *complicated* sometimes.

I only knew the answer to this question because I have been studying percentages, fractions, area and perimeter for the clerical test I took yesterday. Ugh! I hate math! It’s a good thing we have smart children. 🙂 I’ve been subbing in several four-year-old classes recently and was amazed when they told me the “diamond” shape wasn’t a diamond, it was a rhombus. LOL

I thought the rhombus was a dance? Or is that the rumba. 😉

PS: Special thanks to Marie who read the blog and caught my story problem mistake.

But I’m not tellin y’all what it was.Because besides number skillz … I also have pride.

A little bit. 😉