Dad is clearly an idiot

Clara, age 9, came down stairs on Saturday morning, popped open her Chromebook, and started pecking away.

I waited a few minutes, but when she failed to acknowledge my existence, I finally asked what she was doing.

“Just doing a little research on tsunamis.”

“Oh,” I said. “You woke up thinking about tidal waves?”

“Yes, but don’t call them tidal waves anymore, Dad. They have nothing to do with tides. I’m sure I’ve told you that before.

Because this is exactly what I want in the pre-dawn hours of a Saturday morning.

Pre-teen intellectual irritation.