Bottled Lightning recently graduated with her Masters in Statistics. With the requisite mariachi band recessional.
As I said at her celebratory dinner, I should’ve known way back when that she’d end up a statistician.
1. When she was 3 she had a “binky” collection which consisted of cicada skins. First, she had them in a jar. Then, she got a square piece of cardboard and glue-gunned the whole lot in equidistant rows. The affair ended in a horrible tragedy, when the dog we had at the time ate them.
2. We went on a long road trip when Bottled Lightning was 9 or so, during which she kept a running tab of roadkill we passed on the highway. Separated into species. Quantified. Then charted on the computer.
Why am I telling you these semi-horrifying tales? Well, to make a point.
Kids do things that make no sense—at the time. Let ’em do stuff that’s weird. Or messy. You never know how it’s gonna pay off.