'No he's not!' I scoffed at her, the nerve of that child! I'd never tell her, one of her sisters is smarter than her.

My husband is in fact, a genius. He is the smartest person I've ever met. Zeb has a rare combination of 'walking around sense' and book smart.

He remembers every word he's ever read and he read an entire set of encyclopedias before he was 10 years old.  His father is a contractor and a farmer, so Zeb's summer jobs included everything from hauling hay to building houses. He can fix anything, build anything and has a factual answer for almost any question a 5 year old (or a 32 year old) could ask.

I know he's smart, and maybe smarter than me. I'm sure if we got into some sort of dueling Algebra face-off, he would totally kick my tail. But my pride bristled and I wasn't going down like that.

'I can do lots of stuff that Daddy can't do.'

'Oh yeah? Can you make stuff out of wood?' Aubrey asked, skeptical.

Zeb can build just about anything, and has built more pieces of furniture for our house than we have actually bought.

'No, but I know how to give people shots and draw blood,' I said, referring to my previous career as an ER nurse.

'I can cook dinner and do laundry at the same time. I know how to make a blog and a web site, and how to write books…'

'Oh yeah, Facebooks. Huh Momma?' She asked encouragingly.

For crying out loud, does she think that I write on Facebook for a living? This was going to be harder than I thought.

'Not Facebooks, Aubrey. Mommy writes REAL books, remember? I know how to grocery shop and I know how to sew.' I continued to defend my own honor.

'Does Daddy know how to sew?'

I thought of all the times I'd asked him to sew buttons on for me because his eyesight is so much better than mine.

'Yeah, I guess he does know how to sew some.' I conceded as I finished braiding her hair.

Aubrey saw defeat in my eyes and out of sheer pity said, 'I know something you can do that Daddy can't do.'

Pee sitting down? I thought to myself.

'What's that?'

In the sweetest, tiniest voice she has, Aubrey beamed up at me and said, 'You know how to listen to children's hearts…'

'Oh honey!' I bent over and scooped her into my arms. I wasn't sure if she meant figuratively or literally with my stethoscope, but her need to keep me from feeling sad was enough to warm my heart.

And really, I didn't need my 5 year old to tell me I was smarter than my husband, he married me of his own free will when he was 19 years old so you tell me who was using their brain, then.

(Robin O'Bryant is a former Mount Pleasant resident and mother of three. Read her blog online at www.robinschicks.com or e-mail her, zebandrobin@hotmail.com.)