Not quite Bobby Fischer

Chad has been teaching Trevor how to play chess, which means that now, when I walk in the door from work and Trevi calls out, "Mummy!  Come play with me!" I actually have to use my brain, instead of mindlessly walking Lego figures around in circles or crashing monster trucks into the wall.  My chess brain is more than a bit rusty, by the way, so I guess I should consider myself lucky that I get to battle against a Kindergartner whose tit-for-tat strategy makes for a pretty fast game.  I had to laugh today, though, when Clara started reading me long (and, in my opinion, ridiculous) Math word problems from the couch as Trevi and I tried to play.  I may be able to walk and chew gum at the same time, but simultaneous chess and homework is beyond my capability.