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Sheldon, look! Scarabaeus sacer . The sacred scarab.
Sheldon sits at the breakfast table, meticulously measuring the angles of his toast with a protractor. Mary makes eggs. Missy stabs a cereal box.
Dr. Sturgis nods slowly.
(pause) Fine. But I reserve the right to recalibrate based on new data.
It’s my mother.
Geometry is timeless, Dad. Like your love for beer. (Beat.) That was a compliment. Mostly.
It can be. If you want.
Is it the cosmic microwave background? String theory? The Riemann Hypothesis?