Joanne and I have a long running and passionately debated argument: will Tom end up a programmer (my profession and choice) or a lawyer (hers and hers)? And, no, he's not allowed to choose anything else.

"Programmer," I'll say. "He's smart."

"Lawyer," she'll say. "He's-- Hey!"

But this morning, Jo and I were sitting on the couch when Tom wandered in, his brow knit in concentration. Joanne instantly recognized the look. "Thomas," she said, "Did you go to the bathroom?"

And Tom shakes his head "no."

Then, with the sort of practice that comes from deposing cagey and recalcitrant witnesses, she follows up with: "Are you going to the bathroom?"

And Tom nods his head "yes."

"OK," I say to Jo, "you win. Lawyer."