Baby, you know I’m not a mathematician. You know that adding simple numbers isn’t something I can do. You know that subtracting simple numbers isn’t something I can do either. When we first met, I told you, baby, I didn’t understand quantum physics, regular physics, or how many a dozen is. And you laughed like you thought I was joking. And then I laughed because you were laughing. And then I drank too much because I couldn’t accurately count the number of drinks I’d had. Also, on that date, I explained to you that I had skipped every single math class I had ever had in school because they seemed boring. And you laughed again because you thought I was joking, but I wasn’t.
Baby, I don’t need a fourth-grade math skillset to know that you + me = something special.
Baby, how long have we been dating? You could tell me it’d been a couple of years, because I feel so comfortable with you, and also because I am not good at math. You could also tell me it’d been only a couple of months, because everything feels so fresh and exciting and new and also because I am not good at math.