Sunday, August 26, 2012

Let's Put MIT On Hold For A Bit, Shall We?

It's no secret that the #1 son wants to attend MIT. That's the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, you know. For brainiacs. Quite an honor for those who gain acceptance. I have no doubt that #1 is smart enough. He just lacks common sense. Glosses over details. Pulls away from the station with a one-track mind.

Farmer H bought some Krispy Kreme donuts from a neighbor girl selling door-to-door for a school fundraiser. They were delivered yesterday, when the menfolk were at Saturday Bowling League. I set them on the cutting block. The donuts, silly, not the menfolk! They are much harder to lift. I despise a Krispy Kreme donut. They are too messy and squishy for me.

The Pony and Farmer H arrived home before #1. "Hey! I see we have some Krispy Kremes! Who are they for?" hollered The Pony. Well. He knows I hate them. He knows Farmer H is banned from sugar. But his question made me curious, as well.

"Ask your dad if he bought them for #1, or for both of you."

The Pony discovered that the Krispy Kremes were meant to be shared. He snagged one as a snack. The #1 son went to Grandma's house after bowling to glom onto her high-speed internet. He returned to the Mansion as I was getting supper ready. Not cooking, mind you. Making sandwiches. And warming them up in the oven.

"Hey! Krispy Kremes! Which side is mine? I'm going to guess the longest side. Wait a minute! That pig ate three! That's not fair! PONY! Why'd you eat three donuts already, and some out of my side?"

"I didn't. I only had one."

"Well if Dad didn't eat them, and Mom didn't eat them, where did they go?"

"I don't know. I only had one."

It was a crisis of global proportions. I'm shocked that the moon didn't fall out of orbit. I told #1 that maybe the box only came with ten in it. Because it was a fundraiser. Maybe the group was cutting corners to get more money for themselves.

"Oh, no. They come by the dozen. Look at this! I know he took three!"

I looked into the box as he opened the lid. Two rows of donuts. One shorter than the other. Six on one side. Five on the other. "WHAT are you whining about? There are eleven donuts there. Only one is missing."

"Uh uh. There's only nine."

"One, two, three, four, five, six. Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven. Can you not even count to eleven? You can kiss those college dreams goodbye. I'm not wasting my money on a kid who can't even count a dozen donuts!"

"Huh. It LOOKED like there were only nine..."

This morning, The Pony declared that he thought there were actually FOURTEEN donuts in that box. Because you could see them lined up. But there were marks where donuts had been sitting in the box. Sigh. I guess he never heard of shiftage.

I guess community college is good enough for the both of them.


Sioux said...

Shiftage. Shrinkage. Guys need to know about those sorts of things...

Hillbilly Mom said...

And also about close-talkers and low-talkers and anti-dentites.