"Because why, Daddy? Why are we polytheists?" she asks, scarlet juice running down her chin.
"Just because," I respond, skeptical that a three-year-old can understand our belief in a plurality of personified gods and goddesses.
To my wife and me, the world makes sense only when one accepts the existence of a dysfunctional family of gods and goddesses. The only possible explanation for any of this madness is the extremely maladroit meddling of extremely fallible gods.
Let's take something as banal as a pilonidal cyst. Now, most monotheists believe that God is very hands-on. A micromanager. So they believe that he's aware of if not directly responsible for every single pilonidal cyst on every human being now, throughout history, and into the infinite future. This obviously makes no sense. Just do a quick risk-and-benefit analysis. A pilonidal cyst does you no good, and it does God no good. But let's say Apollo is horsing around with his friends and he accidentally slays this nymph with a discus, and this nymph happens to be someone Zeus was hot for, so Zeus is pi