When I was in kindergarten my teacher gave us some math homework. I took it home and solved it all. It was easy stuff like 2 + 2 and whatnot. My mom checked it, and all my answers were correct, so she was proud and I was too, I suppose.
But what happened next, I cannot explain.
My best understanding now is that when I looked at those numbers, I no longer saw math, my imagination started to take over. Before I knew it, math homework became something else.
I went back into the numbers I had written, and I started turning the numbers into characters, making them do things they were not meant to do.
I drew all over the numbers, personifying them based on their specific shapes. When I was finished with my opus, I had turned that page into a Shakesperean drama, with the 4 chasing the 5, the 7 was wearing a costume, 9 had killed the 8, and the 3 and the 2 had fallen in love, despite the disapproval of the 10 and the 12.
Furthermore, the numbers were no longer underneath the equation where they belonged, they were now dancing all over the page, battling each other for power in embellished expressions of their original form. In order to know under which equation each answer belonged, first you had to follow the story.
My math was still correct, but the numbers had just somehow decided to go and do other things. I didn’t see anything wrong with that. I thought it was new and improved math homework. It was far more interesting, and in my mind, completely acceptable, since the answers were still correct.
My mom happened to find it before I went to bed and totally flipped her lid.
Of course, she had no idea that I had turned my math homework into a three act tragedy. She just saw a bunch of unrecognizable numbers in dark corners of the page, getting kicks by doing things she would never understand.
She told me I was going to be in big trouble when I turned in such a mess. And so she sent me to bed.
I couldn’t sleep that night because I knew tomorrow I must face the wrath of my teacher. It was one of the longest nights of my life (I only had five years to compare it to). To this day, I can still see the 7, haunting my dreams with its weird circles drawn around it. It had turned itself into a new number the universe had never seen before, and now we all were going to have to deal with it.
But when I went to school and handed in my homework the next day, nothing happened.
I waited and waited for the axe to fall, I was so sure it was the end of me, but the teacher never said anything.
I never said anything either, better to just hope she didn’t notice. I just figured Mrs. Barkley saw what I saw. I soon decided she probably was even going to give me an A+ since I gve her a cherry on top of the ice cream. Not only did she receive the correct answers to the math problems, I had also turned it into an artistic masterpiece (Open to interpretation, of course).
Later, I guessed that this was too good to be true. My mom was probably more worried about me being thrown in a mental asylum at such an early age. She must have gone back into my homework after I went to bed, erased my math opera, and replaced it with clean and readable numbers.
I think it was in that moment that I secretly knew I was forever going to be in trouble.
The Journey Continues
TG
I am Tyler Gooden, the director of TheFCStartMovie.com - Every week, I share a story.
But what happened next, I cannot explain.
My best understanding now is that when I looked at those numbers, I no longer saw math, my imagination started to take over. Before I knew it, math homework became something else.
I went back into the numbers I had written, and I started turning the numbers into characters, making them do things they were not meant to do.
I drew all over the numbers, personifying them based on their specific shapes. When I was finished with my opus, I had turned that page into a Shakesperean drama, with the 4 chasing the 5, the 7 was wearing a costume, 9 had killed the 8, and the 3 and the 2 had fallen in love, despite the disapproval of the 10 and the 12.
Furthermore, the numbers were no longer underneath the equation where they belonged, they were now dancing all over the page, battling each other for power in embellished expressions of their original form. In order to know under which equation each answer belonged, first you had to follow the story.
My math was still correct, but the numbers had just somehow decided to go and do other things. I didn’t see anything wrong with that. I thought it was new and improved math homework. It was far more interesting, and in my mind, completely acceptable, since the answers were still correct.
My mom happened to find it before I went to bed and totally flipped her lid.
Of course, she had no idea that I had turned my math homework into a three act tragedy. She just saw a bunch of unrecognizable numbers in dark corners of the page, getting kicks by doing things she would never understand.
She told me I was going to be in big trouble when I turned in such a mess. And so she sent me to bed.
I couldn’t sleep that night because I knew tomorrow I must face the wrath of my teacher. It was one of the longest nights of my life (I only had five years to compare it to). To this day, I can still see the 7, haunting my dreams with its weird circles drawn around it. It had turned itself into a new number the universe had never seen before, and now we all were going to have to deal with it.
But when I went to school and handed in my homework the next day, nothing happened.
I waited and waited for the axe to fall, I was so sure it was the end of me, but the teacher never said anything.
I never said anything either, better to just hope she didn’t notice. I just figured Mrs. Barkley saw what I saw. I soon decided she probably was even going to give me an A+ since I gve her a cherry on top of the ice cream. Not only did she receive the correct answers to the math problems, I had also turned it into an artistic masterpiece (Open to interpretation, of course).
Later, I guessed that this was too good to be true. My mom was probably more worried about me being thrown in a mental asylum at such an early age. She must have gone back into my homework after I went to bed, erased my math opera, and replaced it with clean and readable numbers.
I think it was in that moment that I secretly knew I was forever going to be in trouble.
The Journey Continues
TG
I am Tyler Gooden, the director of TheFCStartMovie.com - Every week, I share a story.
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