I guess every maths teacher has a smartass in every class. And yeah, I admit it, it was me in my mine.
I was always chatting away down the back of the room, or staring out the window looking at the mountains in the distance. On a really clear day you could see The Hellfire Club from my spot by the window.
‘Paul Higgins,’ my third year maths teacher would say at least once a day. ‘Are you paying attention?’
‘Sure am Miss.’
‘Would you like to go up to the blackboard and solve that quadratic equation?’
‘No thank you Miss.’ That always got a laugh.
‘Would you prefer to go to the Principals office?’
I trudged forward. ‘Pay attention now, or you’ll regret it later on.’ She advised as I passed her.
‘Oh come on Miss,’ I whined. ‘When am I ever going to need quadratic equations in the real world?’
‘You might one day,’ she smirked.
It took three over decades to prove her right. It took until tonight when my daughter asked me to help her with homework.
Yeah, you guessed it, I just spent the last two hours teaching myself how to do quadratic equations.