The evening began so well. After the hub-bub of Sunday’s frenzy, Oakwood Fellowship was finally quiet enough for the three mice to head over to their favorite spot in the receptionist’s station next to the Lost-and-Found box.
Ricky carried a communion cup fill with apple juice left over from the nursery snacktime, plunked it on the floor within easy reach, and settled down on a holey mitten.
Lena and Meg continued their discussion as they climbed up into the cupboard.
“Because, you know how humans only use ten percent of their brains?” said Lena.
Meg’s ear twitched.
“Oh boy.” Ricky hid his smile in the cup of apple juice.
Meg hopped up on an empty box of Dove soap. “Excuse me?”
“You know, on the scans. Only ten percent of the brain lights up,” Lena said. “On average.”
“I beg your pardon. Humans do not use ten percent of their brains. They may, or may not, use ten percent of their brains at a time, depending on what they are doing. But different parts of the brain are used for different things. People don’t do everything at once.”
“Well maybe, but-”
“-but nothing. For instance, a person cannot use every part of their house at once. Does that mean some parts of the house are unused? No, that’s dumb.”
“Well, you could get more stuff done if you could be in every room at once.”
“The brain doesn’t work like that.”
“So your analogy doesn’t work.”
“People don’t work like that either.”
“But if they did…”
Meg smoothed her whiskers in an effort to stay calm.
Ricky took another sip of apple juice.
“The point is,” Meg said. “People do, at some point during the day, use all the parts of their brain. There is no secret reservoir of untapped brainpower.”
“Well, whatever,” said Lena.
Meg gave a dismissive flick of her tail and scurried over to the smartphone. Someone lost it in the ladies washroom two months ago, and had never come back for it.
“You’re drinking all the juice,” said Lena.
“Well have some then,” said Ricky.
“Although.” Meg’s brow furrowed as she flipped through her Facebook newsfeed with quick, dexterious motions of her paw. “You may have a point.”