This week, after someone else commented that he is taller than I am, my student who lacks even “the memory bank of a dead toad” (that’s according to a colleague) asked me how tall I am.
“About 40,” I said, and went about my business.
“How tall is that?” he asked another student. They conferred and decided I didn’t mean inches or centimeters.
“How tall are you?” he asked me again, puzzled.
“Forty fortieths of my height,” I said.
He looked at his friend again. “What is that, like, six foot two?”
