The Pastor and I went out for pizza tonight to celebrate our childlessness.
We ordered a pizza that had a different topping on each slice. It was very pretty. I wish I had taken a picture of it, but did you really want to see a picture of our pizza?
Anyway, the waitress asked the Pastor if we wanted a medium or a large. I know that doesn't seem like a very difficult question, but I cannot describe the puzzled look the Pastor got on his face. I can say it's probably the same expression I have when someone asks me to be the one to pray, if I know the answer to some Bible question or for directions.
Large! I told her! Large!
It turns out the Pastor could not spit out the pizza size because in his head he was calculating a complex equation of which size would have a better crust-to-pizza ratio. You see, the crust edge stays the same size no matter what size pizza you get, but if you order a bigger pizza, you get more pizza in your crust-to-pizza ratio.
And to think I just blurted out an answer like that. I had no idea. No wonder I had to take College Algebra so many times.
Thankfully, large turned out to be the right answer.