Several days ago, he asked if I remembered the book we had read about the people in the little house. I thought of the picture book with the house that, as the family grows, is too small, so they start adding on to the house. J was thinking of the same book. No, O said, not that one. I asked if he remembered what it was called. No. Did he remember what happens to the people in the story? No. I asked what the pictures looked like. Black and white drawings, he said. There were two little girls, and they had a dog.
Oh, that book about the Little House. The Little House on the Prairie. Duh.
So we’re reading that again.
And then last week, O was
playing working with the calculator. He looked up, made sure he had all our attention, and said, "According to my calculations, half of infinity is six percent."