Parlor Spider...Step In, Little Fly

Insightful thoughts and/or rants from atop the soapbox from one who wishes to share the "right" opinion with everyone.

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Check Your Hand

I knew it. I knew there was a reason I was absolutely horrible at math in spite of Father Richard Birdsall's best efforts to cajole something like an intelligent answer from me. He would always ask me a question, and when I could never respond correctly, He would reply, "Yes, that is correct..." and finish with the right answer so as not to confuse the math geniuses (genii?) in the class. At last I know that it was not his fault or mine that I was not equal to the task for even a fraction of the time. The answer was as plain as the hand in front of my face...well, my ring finger, to be exact. I'm a freak of nature.
Word comes from a reliable source (my know-everything son Ryun) that if ones ring finger is longer than his or her index finger, there was an abundance of testosterone in the womb, enabling said person to be better than average in mathematical computation. It also coordinates with the left brain-right brain thing, apparently. Anxiously, I checked both hands and was dismayed to discover that my ring finger is longer than my index finger ON BOTH HANDS! That means I should not only have a lot more hair on my chest but that I should be a math whiz instead of a math fizzle. While this may not be the first area in which abnormality is part of my makeup, it is certainly a significant one. What else is wrong with me that makes me the way I am and not the way I am supposed to be? Is therapy in order? Do I want to know? Am I the reason that the Bucks got the 5th pick in this year's draft instead of the 1st?
I need an explanation, and I need it soon.

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