12 years, 2 months.
Like a cat bringing the headless bodies of mice and birds they caught and killed to the front door, you have this habit of strategically leaving your tests from school on the kitchen table; always showing a 100 score, and often with a note from whichever particular impressed teacher graded it.
You never verbally announce to Mommy and me, “Hey, look at what I did. See how smart I am?”
Instead, you set the stage for us to notice and then to verbally announce to you, which we always do: “Jack, you are so smart! That is amazing. You are definitely more intelligent than I ever was. Very impressive!”
I have always told you that you are definitely smarter than I ever was. You have yet to deny my claim on that.