Mr. Science

Originally posted 4/01/09


This was my conversation with Ian on the way to school today:

“Daddy, why do some people have I’s in their names?”
“Well, uh, why not?”
“And hearts too?”
“Hearts in their names?”
“Yes, and it says ‘I love you.’”

I suck at answering Ian’s questions. Sometimes I go with the scientific explanation and he looks at me like I’m an idiot. Other times I make something up that’s as far from the truth as possible, or I counter his constant “Why’s” with an equally perplexing “Why not?” and try to get him to tell me his opinion. The conversation usually ends with him looking at me sideways like I’m an idiot, unsure if he should ignore me or actually tell me that I’m an idiot.

My scientific explanation consists of a mischievous little bald guy with a tie and glasses named Mr. Science. He lives under the sink in the upstairs bathroom, and he gets bored so he sneaks around like a leprechaun messing things up for everyone. Mr. Science is the reason it snows and rains, he is the reason my car is so much dirtier than everyone else’s and he is also the reason the mirror fogs up after a shower.
I’m a fan of Mr. Science. I have fun with him but I’m pretty sure Ian has never believed that he exists.
However, I’m starting to believe.