“Dad, I’m not a child.” “I know. I know, I really do. But I’m going to be honest with you, Emi: You’ve always been hard to parent. You thought you were smarter than me by age seven, and by age nine, you were right. And I’m not an idiot.” “You’re kind of an idiot.” He scoffed, putting a hand to his chest in mock offence. “I’m considered quite intelligent, I’ll have you know,” he told her. “I’m a doctor.” “So you tell people,” she muttered.
