“You caught the asymmetry,” she says. “I didn’t see that.”
“Another child prodigy. A girl. Her name is Paige. She’s nine. Nine , Mother. And according to Dr. Sturgis, she’s ‘remarkably intuitive with non-Euclidean geometry.’” He spits the last words out like they taste of spoiled milk. “That’s my thing.”
George Sr., who remembers being a teenage boy, grunts. “You’re not taking her to the drive-in, are you?”
Across the table, Missy, his twin sister, takes a long, deliberate sip of her orange juice. “So you’re not special anymore?” she says, smiling sweetly. Sheldon glares. George Sr., arriving home from his high school football coaching job, hears the tail end of the conversation and sighs. He knows what’s coming: a hurricane of Sheldon-sized insecurity.
