Late last year, Marissa Mayer was struggling with what felt like an impossible task. Her daughter Marielle was turning 10, and Marielle’s teacher wanted three bullet points summarizing what made her special. Mayer—the former chief executive of Yahoo and a pioneer at Google, where she was the first female engineer—likes cracking a hard problem. But she felt overwhelmed by the range and complexity of potential answers.

So Mayer asked her personal A.I. assistant, Dazzle. Within a few seconds, Dazzle delivered an answer.

“It came back and was like, your daughter is empathetic, creative and an animal lover,” Mayer said. She thought it was perfect.

In an attempt to express the blend of bewilderment and despair brought on by this New York Times anecdote, I have concocted a quiz: Which is it—a question the tech industry wants me to ask AI, or something Odysseus asks upon returning to Ithaca after 20 years of absence?

Tell me, what is my son like?

Who are these people in my house?

Are any of these people my son’s friends?

Are any of these people my friends?

What makes my son smile?

What would make a good gift for my son?

Do I have anything in common with my son?

Would archery be a fun activity to do to impress my family?

Is there a quicker route home I could take next time?

What would be a nifty surprise for my wife?

What activities or items does my wife enjoy?

What activity can I do to bond with my wife and son?

Does my dog recognize me?

Is there something I can feed my elderly dog that will help him live longer?

I am told this is my home, but I don’t recognize any of these people in my house, and I don’t know what they want. I am told this is my life, but all of the intimate things that should be the most familiar feel foreign to me. Suggest a fun activity to distract me from the terrifying sense that I have hollowed out my life with my own hands, and that my absence has filled my house with strangers!

Is Zendaya Athena?