OLYMPIANS
ZEUS HAD A GOOD CHILDHOOD ON MOUNT IDA. He spent his days romping around the countryside with nymphs and satyrs, learning to fight with his loud friends the Kouretes, eating his fill of honey and magical goat milk (yum!), and of course never going to school because the schools hadn’t been invented yet. By the time he was a young adult god, he had grown into a good-looking dude—all tan and ripped from his time in the forest and at the beach. He had short black hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and eyes as blue as the sky, though they could cloud over very fast when he got angry. One day his mom, Rhea, came to visit on her chariot pulled by lions. “Zeus,” she said, “you need a summer job.” Zeus scratched his beard. He liked the word summer. He wasn’t so sure about the word job. “What did you have in mind?” Rhea’s eyes gleamed. She had been planning her revenge on Kronos for a long time. Now, looking at her son—so confident, strong, and handsome—she knew the time had come. “There’s an o...