What I Had for Lunch Today: Toast
Needless to say, he didn't know how to "relate" to little girls. One of the few memories I have of my father is of him tossing numbers at me for me to add--or subtract--in my head. 731...1432...598...7641. I can still add faster in my head than most people can using a calculator.
Sometimes in the morning--on weekends, since on workdays he was gone long before we were up and around--he would cut my toast for me. He'd ask how many pieces I wanted, and with a couple of cuts, there it would be. Three or four or five or six pieces, all the same size! I must have been pretty tiny, because it always seemed magical that he could make the number of pieces come out right, and so neat. My first lesson in geometry.
I never eat a piece of toast without thinking of my father. And I never cut it in the same number of pieces twice in a row.