I was in first grade in the mid-1990s. My class is currently learning addition and just about everyone is counting on their fingers. We are working on a math sheet in class and I finish mine pretty quickly.
I peer over at the girl sitting next to me and notice that some of her answers are wrong. Upon further observation, I see that she, much like the others, is using her fingers to count, which is fine until she goes to count the fingers on her next hand. When adding numbers such as three and three, she will start with three fingers up on one hand and then raise the other two fingers on her hand for the next three. Then, she moves to her other hand for the last one, but the thumb on her other hand goes up (or out, rather) at the same time as her pointer finger. Then, she counts how many fingers she actively has up. She then writes seven under the total line.
Being the outgoing and kind-hearted child that I am, I try to point out what she is doing wrong.
Me: “Hey, [Girl], that answer’s wrong.”
Girl: *Defensive immediately* “No, it’s not!”
Me: “I can show you. See, when you count—”
Girl: “Leave me alone, [My Name]. You’re doing it wrong!”
Me: “But, when you count on your fingers, you’re—”
She slams her pencil down and puts her hands up near my face with three fingers up on her right hand and her left hand in a closed fist.
Girl: “I’m not doing it wrong, see?! One.” *Her right pinky finger goes up* “Two.” *Her right thumb goes up* “THREE!” *Pointer AND thumb on her left hand go up* “See?! Seven fingers! Three plus three is seven! I’m not wrong! Leave me alone!”
It was at that moment, at the ripe old age of six, that I learned that it’s pointless to argue with a stupid person.