Unfortunately, The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From The Tree

Of my two sons, Alex reminds me more of myself-- impulsive, talkative, and just shy of smart . . . in college, my friends called me "the poor man's Galileo" because of my half-baked theorizing, and Alex is following suit; several days ago, in the midst of one of his interminably long monologues, he had this epiphany: "Dad! I know how they can let you eat the strawberries when you pick them! Because mom said we couldn't eat them when we went picking! They could weigh you before you start picking! Then they could weigh you after you're done picking! And if you gain like .5 or something, then you pay for .5 strawberries!" and I loved the idea, of course, but that's not saying much, especially since I remember back in college, when I worked for the Middlesex County Election Board in Roosevelt Park, and they had a scale in the break room-- one of those accurate old-school balance scales-- and so on Fridays we would weigh-in before lunch and then go to the all you can eat Sizzler buffet and then weigh ourselves again after lunch, and the person who gained the most weight would win ten dollars (I vaguely remember gaining seven pounds during one of these gluttonous sessions).