211985
“What is wrong with you?” Mrs. Bilson said to her young son Ira, who stood by in agony as his mother read his latest unimpressive report card. “You certainly didn’t inherit my brains. Look at this—a C- in history! You don’t have to be a genius to do well in third grade history! Just draw a few maps, for heaven’s sake.”
“I’m not a good drawer,” Ira said, though he knew it would only increase his mother’s contempt.
“Well, why not?” she snapped. “I’ll tell you why. All you do is stay in your room doing nothing, that’s why. How do you expect to learn anything that way? Oh, your father is not going to be happy to see this.” She shook the paper in his face. “Not happy at all.”
Ira looked at his mother as though he were listening, but in his head, he was counting up by prime numbers. H
