sister: it's strange that we came from a zygote and the penetrating sperm. Who taught him to swim so well?
brother: i taught myself to swim, and it didn't involve sperm. it was slow, my father holding me, and i kicking.
sister: your father is our father, so why do you insist on being possessive?
brother: our fathers may look the same, but they differ in small ways. my father taught me to swim against a strong current, much like sperm, i guess. your father taught you to swim, but he was underwater himself, not breathing, and you worried the whole time, and swam too slowly to impress him.
sister: that is true, I didn't swim. Honestly, I floated.
brother: i've never seen such floating.
sister: I'm a natch. Floating came easily for me, trigonometry more difficult.
brother: it was math that joined us, you see. we're two, with our father three, and now that he's underwater (still), we're back to two, with an honourary extra half.
sister: I love you.
brother: love is a potion sprinkled by the poor on the weak, or by the strong on the healthy.
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