Before he could calculate the odds, the door opened. His mother walked in, holding groceries. “Sheldon, what are you yelling about?”

“Bazinga,” said Sheldon. “But I’m still reporting the pirates to the FBI.”

The TV in the corner of the living room flickered, even though it wasn't turned on. Sheldon tilted his head. “Fascinating. Electromagnetic interference without a power source.”

Sheldon’s jaw dropped. “Is that… me? In the future? And why is my hair doing that?”

But something was different.

Leonard didn’t look up. “Or maybe, Sheldon, you’re just overanalyzing your own childhood.”

Sheldon Cooper sat in his usual spot on the couch, legs swinging just above the floor, a fresh notepad on his lap. It was the summer of 1994, and in exactly 47 minutes, his father would come home from work, his mother would start dinner, and Missy would attempt to annoy him into a scientific outburst.

The screen shimmered, and suddenly he saw himself—but older. Much older. A man with graying hair, a deeper voice, and the same condescending smirk, sitting on a different couch in Pasadena, California. The man turned to the camera and said, “You know, for a genius, young me is surprisingly slow on the uptake.”