Prime Time

My father has it in his head that he's going to teach Doodles all the math and science he needs to know. So he's starting the lessons. Only he refuses to start at the beginning--too boring, he says. So he's teaching Doodles his prime numbers. Over the course of the weekend, my father would raise his arm and shout, "It's prime time!" And then he'd yell out, "Two! Three! Five!" Of course, when Doodles was feeling sick, he was "not ready for prime time," however, I decided that teaching him to say "Jane, you ignorant slut," wasn't the best thing to teach an almost-seven-month old. When I need to hire a math tutor because Doodles doesn't understand that one and four need to fit in there somewhere when counting, I'm sending the bill to my dad.