While I can't do math, I know all the lyrics to roughly a million songs. It seems like God decided that all the brain space that normally gets devoted to math would be used to store the words to songs like "Safety Dance."
My six year old son climbed up on my lap and asked, "Mom, why did God make me, and why did He make you, and why did He put me here?" I said, "Well, God made you to be my son, and He made me to be your mother. And, He must love me very much because I sure am lucky to have you. I wouldn't want any other little boy in the whole world to be mine." He replied, "Oh...but, can I get another Mom?"
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