Mommy Brain > Math Fail

Mr. Dude and I often debate about lots of things, particularly Washington vs. California, since those are our respective birth places. Maybe "mock each other about our respective birth places" is more accurate.

Don't worry - it doesn't mean our marriage is on the rocks. We've been doing that ever since we were "just friends" and arguing about everything. [By the way, being able to argue about anything and still be friends and on the same team afterwards is a highly valuable skill in marriage.]

One topic in particular: schooling.

God bless the man, but he went to school in Washington, the land of the rednecks. And I like to remind him of it. Often. Also, it helps that his undergraduate degree was a B.S. and his master's was an M.S. [ie, "More of the Same"], so I've got lots of material to banter about with him.

But I should probably start learning to hold my tongue, since "Mommy Brain" is affecting me more than I'd like to admit.

Why?

Because now apparently I can't do simple math.

Never mind the fact that I've taken calculus and I'm the daughter of a high school math teacher.

Parenthood Equation: "Mommy Brain" > Stephanie's Mathematical Knowledge

Little Guy turned 8 months old on the 6th [we've kept a human alive for eight whole months ... woohoo!] and I made a passing comment about his age while we were playing on the floor.

Me: Little Guy, you turned 8 months yesterday. That means we're 75% of the way to your first birthday!
Mr. Dude: You mean 9 months, Stephanie.
Me: No, he's 8 months now.
Mr. Dude: I know. Nine months would be 75%; he's only two thirds of the way to his first birthday.
Me: What are you talking about? Eight over twelve is 75%, Dude!
Mr. Dude: Stephanie, nine over twelve is three quarters.
Me: [insert awkward silence] Oh ... you're right. Drats!
Mr. Dude: So about that Washington schooling, eh Stephanie? Man, I've been waiting for his day for a looong time!
Me: Can I have some more coffee now? Apparently I really need it. 

This is where I insert foot in mouth and start wondering if I should be worried about "Mommy Brain" affecting anything else important. You know, like speaking and writing and thinking in general.