It seems to me that if you’re going to make the (already weird when you think about it) choice of gendering numbers and letters in a kid’s book, you ought to go ahead and make sure it passes the Bechdel test.

Small parenting victory of the day is kid’s reaction to watching The Magic School Bus: “This is the coolest thing I’ve ever watched!”

A Star Wars recap/remix from my house this morning: “The piggy galactic emperor wants to rule space so he can stop astronauts from going into space! But we NEED astronauts so that we can study space!”

Lunchtime conversation: “Daddy, how long have we lived in this house?” “Well, we moved in right before the sickness, so over six months now.” “No, Daddy, it’s been nine billion months. I’m right.” “… Yeah, you are.”

The apparent significance of particular numbers is largely a factor of culture and our choice of number system—that is, more arbitrary than actually significant. That said, this is still a bummer of a summer for a tenth wedding anniversary.