Einstein's Theory of Relativity

I'm sitting on the striped sofa, laptop perched at a 90 degree angle on the ottoman. My notebook and various colored pens are on my lap. Dad is in the red chair across from me. His hair goes sideways, slantways, longways, and backways. (He's a bit under the weather and working from home.) I cue Alabama's, "You Can't Keep a Good Man Down," and tell him it's his theme song. I'm studying the velocity of ants along a graph and my father is working on something legal -- in the sense that he's not doing anything illegal, but also in the sense that he's working on a current case or two or five. How many, I don't really know. What I do know is that with hair like that, he looks a lot like Albert Einstein. Truthfully, I wish he were. Just for an hour. Only because I've got math assignments looming large (I've had my limit of limits) and velocitous ants are busily building hills at my feet. And while I don't know their velocity, (yet) I know they mean business.

Or...

I wish my dear cousin Ellie lived in our study like she did one summer. Oh, if I had a nickel for every time I'd thought that these first few weeks of school. I could build a mighty high tower of nickels, which, as long as we're on the subject of science, would defy gravity.

At Ellie's wedding dinner Dad dressed up like Albert Einstein and spoke in his famous German accent and drew equations on the board as a toast to Ellie and Jeff and their future. He promised them their increases would be exponential. Just like Einstein's Theory of Spatial Relativity, dad was right. So right, in fact, that even if I tried to lure Ellie with oatmeal chocolate chip cookies (her famous recipe) and a Meg Ryan Movie Marathon ("I don't like how you say with your nose all schrenched, 'You're French, aren'tchoo?'") she couldn't be persuaded to leave her darling (and smart) children. So, although I saw her just one month ago, I am wishing she would come again because Ellie makes math better and numbers bearable and just saves the day in general. (I have a feeling Miss Anna would be rather happy to see her, too.) Until then, I've got Dad here. If I squint, he looks like Einstein, and I know if I asked he'd speak with a German accent. Growing up he spent many a night at our round kitchen table explaining algebraic equations one step at a time. For that, for him, I am exponentially grateful.