Mathematically Challenged

If I were Superman, math would be my kryptonite.

If I were Dorothy, math would be my Wicked Witch of the West.

If I were Snow White, math would be my juicy red apple.

I really hate math.

My hatred goes way back. I remember being in second grade, sitting in Mr. Spellman’s class, wondering why in the world I should care if Suzy gave two of her five cookies to Sally. What kind of insane seven-year-old gives away her cookies, anyway?

I know math is important. That the rollar coasters I love to ride would fall apart without math. That this computer wouldn’t compute without math. I know.

But I still don’t like it.

Moral of the story: If you give me 5 cookies, you will get none back.

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