I always give Couponman a bad time about his inability to do numbers. He rounds up or down to his advantage. If he wants you to think he’s got a good deal, he rounds down. “How much were the ice cream bars?” I ask.
“I got a really good deal,” he boasts. “Three boxes for three bucks.”
I check the grocery stub. They were really $8 a piece.
I used to be good with numbers.
“I watched a new series the other day called New Girl,” I told my sister. “It’s the one with Zooey something-or-ruther. You know, she was in 500 First Dates.”
“It was 50 First Dates,” Holly, my younger sister by fourteen years, laughed. “and the movie you’re thinking of is 500 Days of Summer. You know the one you called 700 Days of Summer the other day.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “500 First Dates would be the name of my autobiography.”
Guess I’m not as good with numbers as I once was. Yesterday my grandkids wanted me to play with them. They were turning somersaults. So I got down on the floor with them.
What was I doing? I thought I was still thirty-five. After one somersault and subsequent five rotations of the room, I knew I wasn’t.
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OK — you have to teach the Bug and the Worm to use the camera. I really needed to see pictures of you doing somersaults!!