Trinity

A dad was making a gift for his son. It wasn't from a kit, he was making it from scratch. This meant there were no confusing instructions but it also meant some planning was involved.

"Is it done yet?" asked the son.

"I'm just getting started now," replied the dad.

"Have you got time?" called the mum from the other room.

"Yes."

She stuck her head round the door. "You're going to need plenty of space."


"I know. I know," said the dad. Nonetheless, he made sure he did have plenty of space.

"Did you remember the water?"

The dad nodded. "Yes."

"Is it done now?" asked the son.

"Not quite yet," said the dad, remarkably patiently. "I tell you what, why don't you help?"

"Oh, OK."

So they worked together. It was quite a project. There was the water and some earth as well. Not to mention lots of geometry. It started to get complicated. They kept going all the same, the mum continuing to give advice. They worked together, one loving, inseparable family. The project became part of them and they became part of the project.

They moved on from geometry to calculus. Pretty soon this led to electromagnetism, quantum mechanics and relativity. Then they had a problem.

"These don't fit together," said the son.

The dad had a look. The quantum mechanics had a square peg and the relativity a round hole. This wasn't good.

The dad tried duct tape. It didn't work. In the end, he had to tie them together with a bit of string…

Er, sorry, a bit of string theory.

They continued on. There was more to be done. Most of it involved long words and maths. Until finally…

"Is it done now?"

"Yes."

There was a pause. Then the dad took a deep breath and, quietly, he said, "Let there be light." And there was light.

"Wow," said the son.

The mum poked her head round the door. "Ooh, that's good," she said. And it was.