Comment: Odd Numbers

Why are numbers called “odd” because they don’t divide by two? Shouldn’t they just be called “uneven” numbers? And why is the adjective "odd", when used to designate a person, a negative thing? What’s the etymology?

If I weren’t so damn tired, I’d look it up. But I’m solo parenting for a couple of days and it never fails to exhaust me. If you were asked questions all day for twelve hours, you’d be exhausted too. It’s amazing the questions my kids come up with. Frankly, it’s amazing the questions ALL kids come up with. All kids are trying to figure life out and each one has their own take on things.

I mean, there are so many things we need to teach our children that we don’t even realize need to be taught. Take the above example. I’ve known about odd and even numbers for so long that I’d forgotten the concept has to be taught. But it does.

Sure, there are things like crossing the street safely or wiping one’s butt that truly and obviously need to be taught. They're not always easy, but they're pretty simple.

But there are so many more things. For most of us, the concept of left and right is pretty solid. We don’t have to think about it, we just know. The same goes for right and wrong. This is even more difficult to teach. How do you teach children what is good and bad, especially if you’re more of a secular person and aren’t relying on a large religious tome to guide you?

There are laws, and rules. Those help define right and wrong. But it’s not that simple. Right and wrong are subjective, and that’s where you run into the ambiguities that make it so hard to teach.

Makes potty training look like a walk in the park, doesn’t it?

And there are physical things we take for granted, like nose-blowing. It took me years to learn to blow my nose and the main reason I learned was that at age four I got a plastic Fisher-Price horse's ear up my nose and couldn't get it out. (I have no idea what possessed me to put a toy horse's ear anywhere near my nose. Must have been part of a very complex plot in my storytelling.) Anyway, I kept sniffing, sobbing, and saying, "It's not coming out! (giant sniff) It's not coming out!" Finally, my mom had to force me to learn to blow OUT, and thus expel the little plastic nugget from my nostril. It was sweet relief, but what an ordeal. Do you think my mom ever imagined she'd have to teach me to blow my nose? (especially under these circumstances)


And swallowing pills is another. Maybe it's just me (it's probably just me) but swallowing pills took me even more years to master than blowing my nose. (You're probably amazed I got through school. ) I remember at one point it was thought to be a brilliant and urgent idea for me to take cod liver oil pills. My health-food conscious (obsessed) mother insisted I needed to take it. If you've ever tasted cod liver oil, you know the only option is to take it in capsule form, even if it means you'll be fish-burping for the rest of the day. Gnarly.

Anyway, I remember that I couldn't swallow the pills, and it was making everyone crazy. So my stepsister decided to try to teach me. I ended up repeatedly putting a capsule in my mouth, swishing water around, and spitting it all out in the sink. She, on the other hand, kept demonstrating, and probably swallowed dangerously high levels of vitamin A that day. I'm surprised she didn't grow fins. She fish-burped for a week and I still couldn't swallow a damn pill.

But eventually, I learned.

Maybe that's part of what we have to keep in mind as parents. Even with (or in spite of) our meticulous efforts, our children will learn most things. Isn't that odd?