Our own little Einstein

Well, it happened. Just when we thought everything was going smoothly, our 4-year-old daughter comes home from daycare and drops a bombshell. "Mommy, Daddy… I'm a genius!"

Of course my wife and I share a good laugh at that, but before we can even ask her where she came up with the word, the phone rings and I find myself speaking to the daycare administrator. "Some of the children took IQ tests for fun this afternoon, and your daughter scored 180. Do you know what that means?" "She's a genius?"

Overnight, our lives change drastically. Next thing we know, we're sharing the house with our own little Albert Einstein, but with a much smaller nose. "Daddy, did you know that the Treaty of Paris was signed in 1763?" "No, I didn't." "Did you know that an isosceles triangle has two equal sides, consisting of two equal angles? "No, I guess I didn't know that either." "Daddy, did you know that the square root…" "No! Now will you please shut the #@*! up and let Daddy watch the wrestling?!"

Then comes the shopping. No more Toys 'R' Us — now I'm standing in line at Best Buy, trying to wrangle a laptop with enough RAM to choke an elephant, and looking for a calculator with more buttons than a NASA control panel.

Bedtime stories have also become very interesting. No more Dr. Seuss for her. Now it's James Joyce's 'Ulysses', complete with in-depth discussions about symbolism and the socio-economic conditions of turn-of-the-century Dublin. What worries me is that she wants to tackle 'Finnegans Wake' next, and I can't find the CliffsNotes for that one.

Gotta run. Her Highness is currently obsessed with finding the very last decimal of Pi, and she's calling out for another juice box.