Finally, he looked up. His face was not one of joy, but of profound, almost terrifying, seriousness. “Mom,” he said, “I have been nominated for the Nobel Prize in Physics.”
Sheldon, oblivious to the moral compromise, nodded vigorously. “Statistically, you are correct, Meemaw.”
Dr. Sturgis sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m saying you’re nine. You have time. A Nobel at nine would be a circus. A Nobel at thirty-five is a legacy.” young sheldon s02e22 mpc
“The equation for what?” George Sr. asked.
It was Meemaw who had the true stroke of genius. “I’ve got a few thousand saved up from the gambling den,” she said casually. Finally, he looked up
Sheldon held it with the reverence a lesser boy might reserve for a winning lottery ticket. His hands, usually so steady when adjusting a telescope or disassembling a toaster, trembled slightly.
“I prefer ‘boy who needs to learn that toasters don’t go in the bathtub,’ but here we are,” she shot back. “So what’s the plan?” “Statistically, you are correct, Meemaw
Sheldon explained, with excruciating precision, that he had been nominated by a professor in Uppsala, Sweden, for his work on the properties of super-heavy elements, specifically his theoretical prediction of the island of stability. He was not a winner—not yet. The nomination was merely an invitation to submit his full research for the final jury. But in Sheldon’s mind, the difference between “nominated” and “won” was a mere technicality, like the difference between a theorem and a proof.