note: it's been a while since i've written fic... trying to get back into it with silly fluffy drabbles. and yeah, amy totally won the 'will our child's namesake be a physicist or a biologist' battle.
There are many insults Sheldon has taken from Leonard over the past decade. Insults, for example, mocking his clothing choice, his social skills, his high-maintenance nature, and how his Zune prediction was wrong... and that's only a small selection. But insulting his daughter's mental capabilities, using words like 'neurologically impossible' and 'you crazy wackjob you can't seriously expect a toddler to understand calculus why the hell did Amy think it was a good idea to reproduce with you', is just going beyond the pale. What can a Leibniz man know about calculus? Or child psychology? Or anything?
So that may be why he needs to confirm his suspicions that he has the smartest child this world has ever seen— that may be why he's interrupted her Tinkertoy/Barbie game to assuage his ego. "Rosalind," he says (he will not address his progeny by the puerile nickname Rosie that Penny has bestowed upon her), "I have a very important task for you."
He's written a simple question on the paper he's holding— do you use an integral or a differential to solve the area under a curve? With a little graph, of course, to jog her memory of calculus's infinite complexities; beneath, in large bright letters, there's two choices. "Just point out the right one," he coaxes. "I've been reading you Newton since you were prenatal. I know you know it."
She screws up her face in what he's sure is deep concentration... and points a commanding finger at the sparkly purple word integral. "Thawun?" she babbles.
His heart is breaking. No, his heart is bursting. He swiftly scoops her into his arms, clutching her against his chest; she laughs, always grateful for Daddy's attention. "Thank God that the freak mutation which caused my superior intellect outswam the dregs of the Cooper-Fowler gene pool," he whispers. "'Neurologically impossible', my behind. Wait until I tell Leonard about this."
(Oh, hell, he'd probably still love her even if she had failed— her big blue eyes and tousled hair and adorably petulant facial expressions make him feel very squishy inside. It is like being stabbed in the stomach... but it's a good kind of stabbing.)
Rosalind smiles and buries her nose further into his Green Lantern shirt. Her daddy is so silly, asking questions like that! As if he didn't already know purple is her favorite color! And then there's his completely irrational disregard of Leibniz as a mathematician... which is a subject for after cuddle time.