When I was in the 2nd grade, my teacher taught us double and triple-figured addition and subtraction. However, my sister began teaching me long division. My sister is 2 years older than me, and she was in the 4th grade.
I'm guessing she didn't like doing homework. It probably stemmed from the trauma she had two years earlier when she turned in some homework that had a curse word on top of it. She got in real trouble... I thought it was funny. Not that she got in trouble, but that it was such a big deal.
I mean, dad said things like that all the time. I was telling dirty jokes, jokes I didn't know the true meaning of, by the time I was 9.
Anyhow, instead of taking the couple of minutes it would take her to actually do the long division, she opted to teach me how to do it for her. We would sit down and she would start teaching me. I'm not so sure I learned how to do it... but I sure as hell managed to memorize the problem so I could show all my favorite teachers how smart I was.
To this day I attribute my love of math as a child to my sister. I loved it. I was really good at it. Always took advanced classes. And it would always come pretty easy for me.
The odd thing is despite the fact I loved math and was very good at it, I chose to major in Journalism and Broadcasting and go on to law school. What was I thinking? I wish my sister had taught me to write, instead.
TONIGHT IS MY DAD'S 55TH BIRTHDAY PARTY! CAN'T WAIT!
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