The (Dis)Ordered Pair

When her husband hinted at sex on the beach,
she said,
“Not tonight. I have a headache from inequalities.”

When he bought her an anniversary ring that looked like rose-colored glass,
she asked,
“And just what is the absolute value of this?”

When he asked if she’d be willing to go on a double date with Bob Carroll and Ted Allys,
she said,
“I’m just not into polynomial relationships.”

When they argued over his X-box playing and her mockumentary watching,
she said,
“We’re just the difference of two squares.”

When he begged her to make his mother’s infamous kale and tofubarred casserole,
she said,
“I don’t know how to graph that.”

When she mixed his gluten-free, cruelty-free mayo with her Miracle Whippet Good,
she said,
“I was just combining like terms.”

When she got fed up and overfed with his lack of functionality,
she said,
“You just don’t pass the vertical line test.”

But when she said,
“Chocolate is greater than, and rarely equal to..,”
he told her that she needed to take a break from algebra—
that it was making his stomach hurt—
to which she grinned and replied,
“I think you might have a calculus.”

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