Stephen Hawking, general sir

I got back last night from Ohio and my Thanksgiving trip. It's weird when you're home long enough for people to feel comfortable easing back into their routine as if you weren't there. Not that I make my family wait on me or anything, it's just weird.

My sister is 17, and we shared a bed while I stayed there last week. She's used to being the cute girl in charge, so when I visit, I feel the need to put her in her place. Especially since my time to do so is limited: pretty soon she'll figure out that she's the talented, driven, pretty, brilliant one in the family, and the rest of us are just goof-offs. Until then, it's my job to keep her humble.

I made her read to me each night. This week she's reading a Stephen Hawking book about all sorts of fun sciencey things. Sure, the thoughts expressed on his pages are pretty interesting, but it's not a book I would have chosen. I digress. Since we're here, let's backtrack.

I watch a mediocre but sometimes momentarily wonderful sitcom called How I Met Your Mother. I recently learned a joke from its writers. Someone uses a phrase such as general idea, corporal punishment, or major disaster. I respond with a small salute, Major Disaster, as if reporting for duty. Yes, silly, but very pun-tastic, which is my favorite.

Back to bedtime. Emily is reading me Stephen Hawking and twice, TWICE in one sitting, he uses the phrase general knowledge. She knows my love for this joke. She pauses, graciously. I'm half asleep, so I don't even notice until her pause that something is up. She says in a fake-grudging way (because you know she wants it as badly as I do), "Go ahead." I use this pause and invitation time to rewind her words and process what she had read. I then bounce up in bed to salute and say in a very disciplinary fashion, "General Knowledge!" We both giggle and return to our weary states, a little happier.

It's a keeper.