"Sheldon."

"Tilda."

Sheldon lit up at the sight of Tilda, beaming a wide smile her way.

Tilda, doing her best to stay composed, came over and took Sheldon from Lyndon.

“Mr. Fernandez, who gave you the okay to let Sheldon use the computer? Aren't you aware that the radiation and its bad effects on the eyes?"

She began with a slew of complaints, her voice anything but welcoming.

Lyndon, not bothered, looked at his watch.

“Wie just watched for a short while. It's not going to harm his eyes."

Tilda retorted, "But that misses the whole point. Sheldon's just a kid, why start him on computers so early?"

“Because he shows a genuine interest in computers," Lyndon explained.

Tilda scowled. "Children take interest in many things, does that mean we should let them dive into anything? Mr. Fernandez, if you don't know the first thing about raising kids, it's best you don't mislead him with your opinions."

Tilda couldn't fathom why Lyndon felt so comfortable marching into her home as if he ran the place.

Lyndon kept up with her as she left carrying Sheldon.

“Or do you prefer him to stick to word chain game with you all day?

He's a boy, are you planning to raise him to be a sissy poet or artist?"

Tilda found herself at a loss for words.

How could he even think that way?

She halted, set Sheldon down, and turned to confront the calm man with a mix of irritation and disbelief. "When did enjoying literature and the arts ever diminish a man's masculinity?"

Lyndon nodded. “Well, not entirely. But there's this old saying, ‘A scholar isn't much use for anything,’ right?"

Tilda, surprised, snapped back, “So, you think messing around with computers is what makes someone worthwhile?"