From genius to Bart Simpson

When I stepped out of the shower, I found my five year-old son, Charlie, reading the graphic novel version of A Wrinkle in Time on our bed.

Charlie's full name is Charles Wallace. He's named after a character in the book. 

Elysha is reading us the original version of A Wrinkle in Time every night, so even though Charlie is in kindergarten, the background knowledge he has allows him to read the comic book. 

Seeing him sitting there was pretty great. 

Once I was dressed, I sat beside him on the bed.

Hey, Dad," he asked. "Does 10 + 10 + 10 + 10 + 10 + 10 + 10 + 10 + 10 + 10 equal 100?"

"Yes," I said. "How did you know that?"

"I was just thinking about it while you were getting dressed."

My son is clearly a genius. Elysha and I are raising the next Einstein. 

Once second later, Charlie jumped on top on me, licked my cheek, cackled, pushed me down, and shouted, "Smell my butt!"

Maybe not Einstein after all.