Raise your hand if you think I’m funny

Here’s the thing about last Thursday. Chris, Sara and I were at the kitchen table. Noah was in the downstairs’ bathroom. The following (somewhat shouted) conversation took place.*

Noah: What’s one plus three?
Sara: Four.
Noah: Heeeeyyyyy. I have to call on you.
Sara’s hand shoots up.
Me: She’s raising her hand.
Noah: Mom.
Sara: Four.
Noah: Yes. What’s four plus five?
Sara’s hand shoots up.
Me: Your mom’s raising her hand.
Noah: Mom.
Sara: Nine.
Noah: Yes. What’s six plus two?
Sara’s hand shoots up.
Me: She’s raising her hand.
Noah: Mom.
Sara: Eight.
Noah: Yes. What’s eight plus four?

Sara’s hand shoots up just as Noah calls, “Mom.”
The grown-ups laugh at Noah’s quasi-intuition.




* None of the names have changed, but the math problems probably have. My memory is good, but it’s not that good.