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.
“The equation for what?” George Sr. asked.
He didn’t win a Nobel Prize that year. He didn’t even leave Texas. But for the first time, Sheldon Cooper understood that science wasn’t about glory. It was about the work. And the work, whether it was super-heavy elements or breakfast food, had to be done right.
The Equation for Toast: Phase 1 – Heat Transfer in Colloidal Matrices.
Sheldon looked at the money. He looked at his family—his tired father, his anxious mother, his bored sister, his scheming grandmother. They had all rallied for him. And for what? To watch him be humiliated in front of the Swedish Academy?
Mary knelt down and hugged him. Even George Sr. looked moved. Missy, for once, didn’t say anything sarcastic.
“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?”
“We’re going to Sweden,” George Sr. said proudly.