Relative to your average footballer I must be the brain of Britain though a friend I had a Facebook argument with on Saturday assures me that some footballers these days actually have degrees.
I’m assuming he didn’t mean as in third degree murder. Which is a pity given how I feel about football.
The wife and I have been struggling of late to answer the cornucopia of questions that our youngest son has begun to throw at us.
The “reality science” ones are bad enough:
- How big in metres is the world?
- How far away is the furthest star?
- How old is the universe?
But the ones that are really frying my brain are these:
- How many yesterdays were there before tomorrow?
- What do you get if you add a frog and water to an explosion?
- What does [and I quote] lightning add house make?
Home life at the moment is akin to being a permanent contestant on University Challenge with a very impatient Jeremy Paxman demanding constant and immediate satisfaction. Incidentally, I muse on the pros and cons of Jeremy’s bedroom manner in my new Kindle book *cough cough* “Sex With…” which you can currently buy from Amazon. Please do.
In the end, when our young brainiac came up with the worst question of all: “Well, why don’t you know everything, daddy?” I finally admitted defeat and went out and bought a children’s encyclopaedia from WHSmiths. On the whole it’s been a good buy and has put a stop to about 50% of the questions.
For the remaining 50%, it seems that even the best minds in the world stumble to a halt when trying to work out how many yesterdays there were before tomorrow.
My answer of “all of them” failed to impress.
One thing I do know though is how to make Professor Brian Cox have a nervous breakdown.
Lock him in a room for an hour with my son.
(And a copy of my “Sex With…” book which, funnily enough, for those of you who are interested, also features an enlightening piece about what Professor Brian might be like in the sack.)