Saturday morning, the Cooper family was up bright and early, all geared up for their trip.
Mike had just finished the breakfast that Meemaw Connie whipped up. As he stepped out the front door, a sudden gut feeling hit him like a warning bell.
It's gonna rain!
This was the first time his [Weather Forecast] trait had ever sounded the alarm.
The sensation was kinda weird—like a sixth sense kicking in.
But looking outside at the clear blue sky and the sun slowly rising in the east, it sure didn't look like rain was coming.
He stood there thinking for about three seconds, then decided to trust his hunch just this once.
After all, if he was wrong, no big deal—it'd just mean lugging around an extra raincoat. No harm done.
Today, Mike was dressed in a crisp white casual button-up shirt, and he'd even styled his hair with some layers to give it that fresh, sharp look. He was feeling pretty good about himself.
He figured if he got caught in a downpour and ended up looking like a drowned rat, it'd totally ruin the vibe.
So he turned back and asked, "Meemaw, do we have any raincoats around here?"
Connie, who was clearing the breakfast dishes, glanced out the window and said, surprised, "With weather like this? You won't need a raincoat."
"Who knows? Better safe than sorry," Mike replied. He wasn't about to explain that he wanted one because of some weird intuition—that wouldn't sound convincing at all.
Luckily, Meemaw didn't press him on it. She set down the plates and said, "Alright, hang on a sec. I'll grab one for you."
When Mike came back out clutching a bulky navy-blue raincoat, George—who was leaning against the car door—chuckled and said, "Mike, is that seriously a raincoat? We ain't gonna need that thing."
Little Sheldon poked his head out from the back seat, eyeing the big raincoat in Mike's arms, and said seriously, "Mike, I already checked the weather forecast ahead of time. No rain in Texas for the next couple days. You're kinda overpreparing here."
"Maybe," Mike said with a shrug, not bothering to argue. He saw how confident Sheldon looked. After opening the door, he slid into the back seat next to him.
George hopped into the driver's seat too.
With little Georgie up front in the passenger seat, the four of them heading out on this road trip were all set.
As the car pulled away, Missy waved from the sidewalk and yelled, "Mike, don't forget about the gift thing!"
Mike stuck his arm out the window and flashed her an OK sign.
Then he waved goodbye to Meemaw Connie, who'd come out to see them off.
Once the car was gone, Meemaw looked at the three ladies left behind and grinned. "Alright, Mary, you head off to work. Me and little Princess Missy here are off to the amusement park."
Missy was decked out in a cute pink poofy dress today, her hair all done up nice—she looked just like a little princess.
Seeing the teasing smile on Meemaw's face, Mary knew she was poking fun at her for having to work on the weekend.
Mary didn't mind though. She waved cheerfully to Meemaw and Missy, then headed toward the church.
Sure, the church job meant weekend shifts and didn't pay great. But as a devoted Christian, Mary was just grateful to have work helping out at the church—it made her happy.
Meanwhile, George was driving the kids toward Houston, enjoying the cool breeze coming through the window. He was in a way better mood than last night at dinner, when he'd been dragging his feet about the whole thing.
"Houston ain't too far from Medford," he said. "If we hustle, we can make it by lunchtime. Heck, we might even grab a nice big lunch there—and I wouldn't mind trying some of that local ice-cold beer." Feeling pretty chipper, George started chatting with Georgie next to him.
"That sounds awesome. I've never been to Houston," Georgie said, playing along perfectly. Then, with a sly grin, he added, "When we eat lunch, can I order a local beer too?"
For a kid Georgie's age, smoking and drinking felt super cool.
Maybe they didn't actually love the taste, but doing grown-up stuff like that made them feel more mature.
That part mattered a lot.
George saw right through his son's scheme and shut it down firmly. "No way. You're not old enough to drink in public yet."
Under his dad's stern glare, Georgie backed down and grumbled, "Fine, whatever. No beer."
George relaxed, chuckled, and added, "And hey, when we get home, don't go telling your mom I had a drink."
"Hmph," Georgie huffed, turning to stare out the window, ignoring him to show he was annoyed.
But pretty soon, the scenery zooming by—blue skies, fluffy clouds, wide-open views—cheered him right up.
It wasn't long before Georgie turned back and started chatting with his dad again. They talked about everything from football games to what Houston was like.
Most folks love that kind of easygoing conversation. But in the back seat, little Sheldon just thought the two of them were being noisy.
So he piped up, "Does anybody know what Schrödinger's Cat is about?"
Clearly, Sheldon was throwing that out there just to stump his dad and Georgie.
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George and Georgie, who never paid much attention to science stuff, had no clue what cat he was talking about. Suddenly, the car got real quiet.
That's exactly why George hated being alone with Sheldon—he was always worried about moments like this.
After an awkward pause, Georgie guessed uncertainly, "Isn't it about some guy named Schrödinger who had a cat? Like, a story about the cat and the guy? It's pretty interesting. It's a long one..."
Under Sheldon's disdainful stare, Georgie's voice trailed off until he just shut up.
Then Sheldon turned his eyes to his dad.
George, focused on driving, frowned at the challenging look in the rearview mirror from his youngest son. He shrugged and admitted, "I got no idea about any cat thing. Can you explain it to us?"
That feeling of knowing something others didn't always gave Sheldon a big sense of accomplishment. Just as he was about to school the two in the front seat, he remembered there was someone else in the car.
Sheldon turned and saw Mike dozing against the seat. He frowned a little and called, "Mike... Mike!"
They'd gotten up kinda early today, so Mike had nodded off pretty quick after getting in the car.
Plus, long car rides are perfect for catching some extra Z's.
Hearing his name, Mike groggily opened his eyes and found himself staring into a pair of bright, eager ones.
Still half-asleep, he mumbled, "What's up, Sheldon?"
"Do you know what Schrödinger's Cat is about?" Sheldon asked carefully.
He figured if Mike didn't know either, it'd count as a win for him.
Yeah, Sheldon hadn't forgotten losing to Mike on that math test.
"Schrödinger's Cat? Isn't that a paradox?" Mike said, thinking it through. "It's this thought experiment: Everything exists as a wave function in superposition—basically uncertain—until someone observes it. Then it collapses into a definite state.
Like a cat locked in a box—if you don't look, the cat could be alive or dead. You can't know for sure.
But when you open the box and check, it becomes definite: either alive or dead..."
After explaining all that, Mike asked, "Did I get that right, Sheldon?"
The paradox is a bit tricky to say out loud, but it's not that hard to wrap your head around once you hear it.