I  was listening to someone I know talk about a crazy experience they had with a knight while they were in London. The story involved a porridge incident and Sir So-and-So, who by the story, sounds like a bit of an eccentric.

The story was so hilarious that I relayed it to someone else I know. We were laughing and I said, “Everyone who has ever been knighted is crazy. I am certain of it.”

She looked at me and said, “My Dad is a knight. He was knighted.”

Say what?


After I shook off my brazen idiocy, I decided to do some cyber stalking. Ahem. I mean research. I wanted to figure out who her Dad was and if she was messing with me.

In short: she wasn’t.

Her father discovered a new knot polynomial in the 1980’s, which is now named after him. He received the Fields Medal. He was knighted. He is not crazy.

I followed up with the woman who has a knight for a father, and told her I had found out who her dad is. Shocked would be the correct adjective to describe how she reacted. She couldn’t believe that I figured it out without her maiden name. I assured her my cyber skills are top-notch, which in hindsight sounds creepy.

We had a great 10 minute discussion about her life and her childhood. Then she asked me to write this story.

But what are the odds of me making this foot in mouth mistake? My math challenged brain only got to figuring out that I need to know how many knighted people are still alive, and then it shut down.

Porridge anyone?


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