My son has been engrossed in numbers throughout his school holiday, keeping himself occupied with mathematical pursuits. It has become his latest fascination, and we are fully embracing it. He whispers arithmetic problems in my ear, categorizes all his possessions into groups of 4s and 5s, and challenges everyone he meets with mathematical riddles.
Observing his cognitive abilities at work, witnessing his innate understanding of numbers in action, is truly captivating. However, there are intriguing gaps in his knowledge. While he can effortlessly add arbitrary numbers and double any number up to 50, he remains puzzled by “7 + 9”, firmly convinced that the answer is 15. Fortunately, such mistakes can be easily corrected, and the best part is that he eagerly embraces every clarification, experiencing sheer delight and even euphoria.
In the journey of parenting, there are moments of sheer beauty that are fleeting and rare, yet so magnificent that they catch you off guard. I never anticipated that seemingly trivial arithmetic problems would provide so many of these treasured moments. Like the time when I taught him that he could solve seemingly complex calculations, such as “4m + 6m”, in the same way as “4 + 6”, just with “million” added at the end. Witnessing his realization was simply sublime; his eyes widened cartoonishly, his smile grew exponentially, and it was as if he had uncovered a hidden knowledge, a breathtaking loophole in the fabric of the universe. He could confidently add up millions, actual millions, and he felt like he was walking on air.
There are some questions that I struggle to answer to his satisfaction. Perhaps because I learned addition and subtraction through rote memorization, I have lost the ability to explain my mental process. Some of my calculations are difficult to articulate since they are tricks I developed when my brain was as malleable as his. For instance, when adding 9 to 6, a significant part of my strategy involves recognizing that 9 is 1 less than 10, resulting in a digit one less than 6. When adding, let’s say, 24 to 37, I subtract from the smaller number to round it up to the nearest 10, and then add what remains. These mental processes occur instantaneously for me, but describing them now makes them sound like the ramblings of an eccentric person, scribbled on a wall-sized blackboard.
Now try explaining negative numbers to a five-year-old. Scratch that – try explaining them to anyone. Within seconds, you’ll find yourself sounding like a bewildered individual in a teenage bedroom, marveling at the concept of imaginary numbers with practical applications. I make an effort to exude confidence as I tell him that holding “-4 apples” in one’s hand is not possible, yet negative numbers do exist somehow. His confusion doubles when I introduce him to the notion of infinity, but my own befuddlement surpasses his as I attempt to explain it. I contort my face, mimicking Robert Oppenheimer pondering the frontiers of quantum theory rather than engaging in a mathematical discussion suitable for a child who hasn’t learned to tie his shoes yet.
If my son detects my inner turmoil, he doesn’t let on. He resumes his numerical onslaught, and soon we find ourselves adding millions together for what feels like hours. I glance at the clock and realize it’s only 11 AM, with three more weeks of summer vacation left. Lessons in infinity, it appears, are all around us.
Did Ye Hear Mammy Died? by Séamas O’Reilly is now available (Little, Brown, £16.99). Purchase a copy from guardianbookshop for £14.78
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