So they’re upstairs retelling the story of the Minotaur, in which Theseus kills the Minotaur and then sails home triumphant. But since in his glee he forgets to change the color of the sails on his ship before setting sail homeward, his father the king sees the black sails and, distraught, throws himself into the sea. My kids don’t get to the denouement, however; they get caught up in the part where Theseus slays the Minotaur. I mean, kills the Minotaur. I mean, destroys. Decapitates. Murders. And so on.
“There sure are a lot of words for making someone die, aren’t there?” says T, and off they go again. Heck, I don’t know if *I* could have come up with so many on such short notice.
