Category Archives: math

May 16, 2012 · 4:36 pm

Word Problems V (The Animal Edition)

How many snakes must a Mama find in her garage to (1) induce a heart attack and (2) convince her it’s time to put the house up for sale?

One would have been enough, but, of course, I found two.

How many foxes must pass through a Mama’s backyard to convince her that the front yard, or better yet her closet, is a much nicer place to play?

One.

How many times must two young and impressionable children witness the freak show their Mama performs when she gets caught in a spider web before deciding they, too, are irrationally afraid of those pesky silky threads?

One.  It’s shockingly easy for me to project fears and anxieties on my children.

How many termites must swarm in a Mama’s kitchen before she (1) calls Terminix, (2) pours herself a glass of wine, and (3) looks at real estate listings online?

One would have been plenty, but by definition, swarm means to move about in great numbers.  The scene in my kitchen was horrific.  In fact, I can’t write about it anymore or else I’ll cry.

How many pee and poop accidents does a potty trained toddler* need to have before a Mama realizes she has a problem on her hands?

Seven.  But a smarter Mama would’ve been suspicious by number 4.  

*A toddler is an animal.

Postscript:

Dear whoever unleashed the dregs of the animal kingdom on my home,

Cut it out.  You’re not being nice, and I really don’t think we can be friends anymore.  You’re unpredictable, mean spirited (snakes in my garage?  really?), and I just don’t trust that you have my best interests at heart.  You could have at least sent a giraffe.  I like giraffes.  Or a Chihuahua.  The boys would quite enjoy a Chihuahua.

Sincerely,

The Runaway Mama

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May 9, 2012 · 3:24 pm

Word Problems IV

If a Mama has 15 sippy cups in a cabinet, 4 sippy cups in the dishwasher, 2 sippy cups in the boys’ backpacks at school, and 2 sippy cups in the drying rack next to the sink, how many total sippy cups does a Mama have for TWO children?

23.  Good grief.

 

How many snow globes must be broken – sending shards of glass, water (I think), and “snow” glitter flying all over the family room carpet – before a Mama realizes her three-year-old should not have snow globe holding privileges?

One.

 

A Mama starts bedtime at 8:03 p.m. and it ends at 9:47 p.m.  For how many minutes does the torture of bedtime make that Mama wonder what possessed her to ever have children in the first place?

104 minutes.  (Don’t worry.  The next morning, the Mama remembers how much joy and happiness her children bring to her life.  That is, until she has to wrestle her three-year-old into his car seat to get to school on time.  Then, she has more bad thoughts.  When she picks them up at school that afternoon, though, and they look at her like she’s the only person on the planet who matters, she realizes what a gift motherhood is.  That is, until dinnertime, when her five-year-old refuses to sit at the table – for even five minutes! – and her three-year-old cries because she won’t let him eat marshmallows for dinner.  Eventually, though, she laughs because her five-year-old asks her if she’s “happy at him” and her three-year-old says “mushroom” instead of “marshmallow,” and she falls in love with her children all over again.  That is, until bedtime…)

 

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