Q: What does a s mean in math?

A: An 'S' on a report card means 'Satisfactory'. You have achieved satisfactory results in math. Not the smartest kid in the class, but not the dumbest. You're right in the middle with most everyone else.

But here's the weird thing. Teachers give grades like 'S' and 'S+' and 'U' in elementary school, in subjects like basic arithmetic and penmanship and playtime. You're in the 12th grade. High school teachers traditionally award letter grades, A's and B's and C's, to indicate a specific level of achievement.

In fact, if you take a careful look at your report card, you will see that in every other class you have a letter grade, except in math, where, right on top of a glob of moist Wite-Out, you have an 'S' written in pen.

This means one of two things. One, you received a grade so poor in math that you didn't want me to see it, so you doctored your report card in the hopes that I would fail to see through your ruse. Considering the rest of your report card is C-'s and D+'s, that must have been one poor grade. Two, you failed math so spectacularly that your teacher felt that a simple 'F' insufficiently expressed your incompetence, that the letter wasn't low enough, that he had no choice but to grab your report card from the printer and write, by hand, a new, incredibly poor grade. .

Either way, I'm going to stop saving for your college tuition.

Q: When did hades get a three headed dog?

A: He's always been a long, sir.We've kind of lost count. It's hard to keep track of time down here. You ought to know better than anyone how long he's been here, sir. He is your dog.

Yup, you asked for him and everything. Made a bit of scene if I recall.

We all thought it odd that you would want a giant three-headed dog to guard the underworld, ever patrolling the shores of the River Styx to prevent all souls from returning to the land of man. That seemed like a lot of work for a dog. A lot of long, lonely hours. We tried to talk you out of it. We suggested a titan or a basilisk or a minotaur, something that wouldn't require so much care and attention. But you insisted on a puppy, even though we all knew you'd get bored after a few years and forget all about him. Since you kind of run things around here, we got you your damn dog.

And you haven't fed it once. Or taken it for a walk, or played catch with it, or anything. Do you have any idea how much work it takes to care for a three headed hell hound? We've been out there for centuries, chopping up pedophiles and cat jugglers, using their bodies for food and their heads for sport - he likes when we shoot the heads in the air with a catapult. He tries to see how many he can catch at once. His record is six. We do it all so he feels loved, so he doesn't think that his master doesn't love him anymore. But his master never loved him at all.

I hate to be the one to say "I told you so," because I know you'll banish me to some mountain where I'll be tied to a tree and have my eyes regrow every morning so birds can pluck them out at night. But know that I am thinking it. Already you probably already know that. I think. Sometimes I'm not quite sure where your powers begin and end; the available literature on the subject often contradicts.

We named your dog Cerberus by the way. We weren't about to let you name him, not after the debacle of naming the River. Thank Zeus we were able to talk you out of calling it the River Kansas.