Give me an adjective that describes Aphrodite in this story.
Hm. . . That’s not specifically stated, but it’s a good point; I guess I’d be angry if someone were trying to kill my boyfriend.
B: Wait! You have a boyfriend?
No. But hypothetically.
C: But what if he’d just dumped you? Then you might be like (eyes bug out, crazed grin spreads across his face), “Yeah, kill him.”
B: Have you ever been dumped?
No. Adjectives. . .
D: Wait, you’ve never dated?!
No, I have. Adjectives. . .
E: Oh, but you dumped.
Well, I think “dumped” is a pretty strong word for what I’ve done. Adjectives. . .
[I get the class back on track, and think the issue is closed. I’m naive. But not, it turns out, as naive as they are. At the close of writing:]
D: Who did you dump?
I am not going to discuss my romantic past. (Or remind you that it’s “Whom did you dump?”) Let’s get to work.
E: We should get you into a romance.
B: Stay single.
E: No, ’cause then she could be happy.
[Hm. I thought I was happy.]
F: Well, what B said is half true, half not-true. ‘Cause if you get married, then you have to do a lot of housework, but you can also have a daughter, and that makes you happy.
G: Yeah, and then you can sit around and make your kids do the work.
H: How come you never have kids unless you’re married?