|John William Waterhouse, R.A., accepted 1901|
Oh and I was a smoker. Yeah, that’s another thing that Hans Christian Andersen neglected to mention. Not only did the little mermaid, me in this case, NOT give up her seaworthy finny-ness (I found a better witch – one who’d let me live on land AND in the ocean. Yeah, ya gotta shop around), I was rather fond of Benson and Hedges and Jamo.
It's a mermaid thing. No, RILLY!
In any case, I’d been at the local lying in, having just given birth to a wee baby girl swimmer. Though the baby was healthy as all hell, I had to leave her at the hospital – docs wanted to observe her, do some fucking research for a few days. Bastids. I had no choice but to walk back to my fourth floor walk up.
I did and promptly filled the tub, flopped in, lit up a smoke and changed out from legs to my MUCH more comfortable fins. And then I stewed. I wanted the kid back and NOW!.
Just then, my boyfriend – a full time land dweller – walked in. This wasn’t the baby daddy. No, there wasn’t one actually. In dreamsville, this one anyway, we mermaids rocked the parthenogenesis action. Yeah, us mermaids, we were totally one up on the Amazons
For some reason the dude was there not to bring me daisies and chocolate covered cherries (because, dammit, I’D JUST GIVEN BIRTH) but to stab me. Why? Dunno but it seemed that it had something to do with nefarious docs who wanted to dissect me for research shit. Yeah, great!
Last thing to go through my head before my fierce former warrior boy woke me up was Oh, FUCK NO! I am NOT getting offed today.
Yeah, I was annoyed and pissed versus afraid. That’s good, huh?
Semi-related but not actually so much – Mermaids is one of my fave Cher movies.