327. Cindmerella (January 19, 2017)

Cindmerella loved gloves. Every day she would swim out of her home and scour the ocean floor in search of treasures she could arrange to create beautiful gloves. She would find pearls, coral, shells, jewels from sunken ships, and even once a bright pink ceramic rose. Cindmerella loved the gloves that she designed.

Unfortunately, she never got to wear them. Cindmerella's mean step-sisters always took her most beautiful gloves away and wore them to hide their own, ugly hands, but their hands were so much bigger than hers, they always ripped or broke them. Her step-sisters always tried to make themselves look better than Cindmerella. They dyed their tails the latest trendy color, covered themselves in glittery pearl dust, and wove ropes of seaweed into their hair. But nothing they did could make them as beautiful as Cindmerella. They were jealous.

One day the Mer-King announced he was going to throw a royal festival for his son, the Mer-prince. There would be sunken ship scavenger hunts, races, shark-wrestling, and all sorts of games. The whole festival would end with a very fancy ball in the sea-palace where the Mer-prince would choose a bride.

Cindmerella's stepsisters were very excited. They swam around in fast circles, singing and flinging their best jewelry around, trying to decide what to wear. When Cindmerella put one her favorite pearl-covered gloves and placed a pink anemone in her hair and looked at herself in the mirror, her stepsisters just laughed. "You can't go to the festival," they said. "The prince would never want to marry a glovemaker." They threw her anemone on the sea floor and ripped her gloves off her hands. The gloves ripped and her pearls scattered everywhere. 

Cindmerella cried as she swam away. Hiding in a cave, she watched her stepsisters leave for the festival, wearing her most wonderful gloves and so much pearl dust that they left a trail behind in their wake. "I wish I could go to the festival," Cindmerella cried to herself. 

Cindmerella heard a tiny pop and turned around to find a beautiful, shimmering jellyfish swirling at her. "Hello, Cindmerella," the jellyfish said kindly to her. "I'm your fairy blobmother." 

Cindmerella told her fairy blobmother all about the festival and the ball. She told her about her mean stepsisters and showed her the ruined gloves. 

"Don't worry, Cindmerella," her fairy blobmother said cheerfully. "We'll get you to the festival faster than you can say 'tidal wave.'

The fairy blobmother swirled her magic tentacles and all the pearls rose from the sea floor. With another swirl the pearls restrung themselves and Cindmerella's gloves were just like new again. Another swirl and Cindmerella's tail and seashells were white and glittering. Even the seaweed that held up her long hair was white and fitted with pearls. Cindmerella had never looked more beautiful. 

"Now go to the festival, Cindmerella, and have fun. But remember, you must leave before the tide is at its lowest. That's when the magic will end."

Cindmerella waved goodbye as she swam away to the sea-palace. 

Cindmerella was amazed by all she saw. Lights were hung on every kelp tree in sight. A fountain in the shape of an octopus was spouting purple mud in elegant arches from each of its tentacles. There was a three-way tie in the distance-swim. One gutsy merwrestler tried to swap his shark for a dolphin and was escorted out of the sea-palace grounds.

When the bell was finally rung for the ball to begin, everyone swam inside to dance. Cindmerella floated around the edges of the ballroom, enjoying the scene while avoiding her stepsisters.

Suddenly a handsome young merman approached her and asked her to dance. Cindmerella agreed and off they swam, twirling and whirling and flying through the water. They danced all night long. Cindmerella was enjoying herself so much she was startled when she looked up at the tideometer and realized it was nearly low tide. Cindmerella gasped and swam away in a flurry. The young merman called out to and tried to grab her hand to keep her with him, but her pearly glove slipped right off her hand and the merman was left alone. 

Cindmerella dashed from the sea-palace grounds, through the kelp forest and away from the lights and music of the festival, never slowing her pumping tail fins until she reached home. By the time she stopped, her tail had returned to its normal red hue and all her pearls, jewels, and sparkles had vanished. Cindmerella was left with only her memories of the evening and a single, pearl covered glove to remember her marvelous time, but that was enough for her. She tucked the glove under her sea-cucumber pillow and fell asleep with a smile on her face.

The next morning, Cindmerella woke to her step-sisters in a flurry. "The Mer-prince met the mermaid he wanted to marry, but she left the ball and now he only has her glove as a clue to who she is," they squealed. "He has vowed to marry the girl whose hand fits it." Cindmerella sucked in some krill in surprise. Her handsome merman was the Mer-prince! He wanted to marry her! 

When the Mer-Prince finally showed up at their home, Cindmerella waited and watched with her hand behind her back while her step-sisters tried to fit their large hands into her dainty, beautiful glove. They finally gave up and the Mer-prince turned to Cindmerella. A smile or recognition crossed his lips as he approached her, waiting for her to offer her hand. Cindmerella put both hands out for the Mer-prince. One was bare, and the other wore a sparkling, pearl-covered glove; an exact copy of the one in the Mer-prince's hand. He slid his glove onto her bare hand, and as her last finger fitted into place, a wave of light emanated from the matching pair. Cindmerella looked suddenly as brilliant as she had at the ball. The Mer-prince embraced his beloved mermaid and swept her off her tail, swimming her away from her mean step-sisters forever. He took her to the sea-palace where they were married. And they lived happily underwater after.

326. Alcatraz, Alcatraz (September 24, 2015)

Alcatraz Alcatraz whom do you hold?

I hold a bad guy, daring and bold.

Bad guy, bad guy, why are you there?

I stole a lot of dough from that big bank back there.

Big bank, big bank, where is your guard?

He took a sick day to mow his mama's yard.

Mama's yard, mama's yard, why are you so tall?

I like the bright sun, shining for us all.

Bright sun, bright sun, where do you shine your rays?

I shine down everywhere, but most on Alcatraz.

325. “Don’t Drop Her” (May 4, 2015)

My little brother, Josh, has never been great with babies. He wasn't even two when Steeny was born, and she was the last child. He had no real experience. Jane was a novelty to him. The first grandchild of our parents. The first real baby he'd ever been allowed to hold.

That didn't stop his confidence, though. He threw her up over his shoulder and she gave a little three-month-old laugh. Steeny, mom, and I watched, enjoying the interaction. I wanted Jane to have an early memory with her uncle, so I took a video of the two of them playing together. 

Josh flipped her and spun a bit, putting on his "I'm the coolest dude" face. He was macho.

And then Jane drooled.

Teenage boys don't do well with drool. He shrieked a little and pulled Jane off his shoulder, trying to get away from the string of baby saliva. 

Amused at his concern (I had grown immune to the grossness that is drool) I jokingly told him not to drop her.

It wasn't even three seconds later that he did.

Lucky for Jane she was only a few inches off the ground when she twisted out of Josh's hands. 

Unluckily for Josh, we caught the whole thing on camera. It's been three years and he still won't hold another baby.

324. Isn't i It Obvious, Daddy? Ariel's in Love (Jan 4, 2015)

"Do you think she swam away with him?" Arista asked, anxiously chewing her fingers.

"I doubt it," Andrina replied. "She's always been way too attached to that Flipper kid to leave everything behind."

"Flounder," Atina corrected. "And he hasn't been seen since she left, either. Father sent someone to his school to see if he knew where she is."

Aquanta interrupted, pushing her sister aside. "But where else would she disappear to other than with this merman she's in love with? I know Ariel's always been a bit floatier in head, but she's never been gone this long."

Arista popped her head between her sisters, bobbing up and down with each of her rapid questions. "Who do you think it is, Quanti? Have you ever heard her mention anyone? Do you think it's one of Queen Harmony's nephews? Is it Mak? Tuber? Gem?" 

Adela flicked her tail at her chatty sister's face in agitation. "Chill, Ris! Yikes, you're obnoxious."

"She's got a point though," Atina separated her sisters as with a gentle hand. "If Ariel did swim away with a merman, it probably was one of her mother's nephews. They're always swimming around her trying to win Father's favor."

Andrina snorted in derision. "And it's not like Harmony does anything to stop them. Mother never would have allowed that kind of behavior from her relatives if she were still alive. The polyp doesn't fall far from the coral."

"That's not fair, Dree. Ariel is our sister, too. And Father wouldn't have married Harmony if he thought she was unworthy. She makes a very good queen and Father loves her. She's never been unkind to any of us. You have no reason to be unkind to her."

"But if Ariel did swim off with her lover, what is Daddy going to do? Can he make her come back if they find her? Will they get married? Why wouldn't she tell Daddy who he is?"

Atina caught Adela's tail before it reached Arista's face a second time. "We don't know if she swam off with anyone. It's just as likely that she's on another one if her adventures and has lost track of time."

"Three days? Really, Tina?" Aquanta laughed at her sister's innocence. "Ariel comes in here obviously in love and that's the last any of us see of her. You know Ariel. When she decides she wants something, she gets it." 

"Human!" Alanna rocketed into the clearing, panting from her quick swim. Her sisters spun around at her urgent call. "Ariel's marrying a human!"

323. An Unguarded guard (Feb 22, 2015)

The slaves are very active this evening. This wouldn't be so strange normally, but since Moses came back and brought these plagues with him, they've been rather subdued. Trying not to make things even worse, I guess. But not tonight. 

For hours I've seen them walking back and forth from their homes to the sheep fields. Thousands of them. They're taking only lambs back with them. There's been no talk of this being a holy day, and there are no celebrations. It's eerily quiet. That makes it even more strange. There's so much activity, but hardly any of them are speaking. They don't hide what they're doing. It's not sneaky. Just hushed.

The lambs are being killed, and they're using the blood as some sort of coating on their doorways. I don't know what it means, but it worries me. This is something new.

I've begun to wonder if Moses isn't crazy after all. Every time he has said His God will bring a plague, a plague comes. Our priests and priestesses can't seem to stop them. I know Moses went to see Ramses again today, and now this. I don't know what it means, but I'm not so sure I think they're wrong. 

There is a bucket of lamb's blood left in the road. It was left by a Hebrew who has retreated into his home. Many of them have shut themselves in and not come back out. I take the bucket when no one is looking and return to my own home. 

No one is watching. They are all too sick or afraid from these plagues. I coat my doorway with the lamb's blood and go inside. I shut the door tight and greet my wife. She has just put the children in bed. I tell her about the Hebrew activity and what I have done. She tells me I have made a good choice. This is not the first time she has expressed interest in the Hebrews and their faith. 

We eat our dinner and go to sleep.

I wake in the morning to screams. Our neighbors are singing death cries. I am not surprised. They have young children and these plagues have been hard on the young. But then I hear more and more. 

I leave my home to find out the trouble. All around, my neighbors are mourning death. Young and old. Rich and poor. Only males. It doesn't take long for me to realize it is only the oldest sons who have died. I have a son.

I run back as fast as my legs can take me. I cannot keep my tears back. My boy. My poor boy. Is he gone, too? 

I burst through my door and cry out. All of my children are sitting with their mother. All of them. They are crying, frightened by the noise of death. But they live. All three of my boys live. 

My tears of fear turn to tears of joy. I hug my family tightly and laugh. I cannot help it. I am too relieved. My wife asks me what has happened and I tell her what I have seen. She sends me to see after the Hebrews.

I am on my feet once again, running to the slaves. And there is no mourning. 

There is only silence.

I cannot know for sure, so I go to a home where I know the leaders meet. I knock. An Elder answers. He is expecting another face. He is expecting Moses. I tell him that my son lives when all of my neighbors have lost theirs. He lets me in and I tell him what I saw last night and what I did. 

As I speak, Moses comes. Ramses has released the slaves. They are leaving for their promised land. The Elders send runners to spread the word. All will gather within the hour and they will leave. The room is empty but for me, Moses, and two Elders. I sit silently, unsure what I should do. It is Moses who breaks the silence.

"Bring your family. Come, follow the Lord."

I return to my wife. We gather what we can carry. It is not much. But I have put my faith in the Hebrew God, and He will protect us. 

We join the Hebrews.

322. Not I, Said the Cat (May 15, 2015)

Clarence the Cat was your usual barnyard cat. It was his job to protect the fields, the barn, and the house from rat and bird infestations. He did his job and he did it well. He was the best mouser in town.

One morning Clarence was stalking a particularly clever rat through the grain fields. This rat had eluded capture several times and was beginning to be quite a nuisance. He had been chewing the bottoms of several stalks of wheat which was not good for the farmer. This morning, Clarence had spotted the rat nibbling on some wheat seeds that he had knocked to the ground. Clarence flattened himself to the ground and slowly approached his target. Just before he pounced a little red hen dashed over, squawking and flapping her wings. The startled rat scampered off. Clarence had lost him again. 

"Ooo, seeds!" The little red hen clucked loudly. "Who will help me plant these seeds?" She asked excitedly. 

Clarence was in no mood for the hen's games. "Not I," said the cat as he slunk away to find his prey again.

The seasons changed and with the harvest came Clarence's heaviest teaching load. Miss Florine had birthed four kittens to him that spring and now it was time to teach them to hunt. The rats came in greater numbers during harvest, eager to feast on the farmer's plentiful crops.

Clarence took his four students to the field and tried to teach them the basics of pouncing. Mittens and Tiger were ready to learn but JuJu and Hyperion only wanted to play. They chased each other around and jumped and clawed and tumbled about, knocking into their siblings and creating a fuss. 

"Calm down, you two. You need to listen to learn," Clarence called to them, but it only made them more eager to play. JuJu swatted at Clarence's tail and Hyperion pounced on him from behind and flattened his head to the ground. "See, Daddy? We're learning!" Hyperion grinned down at his father. 

Clarence was about to answer when the little red hen ran over and clucked "my wheat is ready. Who will help me cut the wheat?" She looked down at Clarence expectantly.

"Not I," said the cat as he rolled over and shook his son from him. "I'm a little busy at the moment." The little red hen clucked in anger at him and waddled off to find the dog.

"Daddy," asked Mittens softly, "why do the rats eat our food?" 

Clarence explained the rats' greedy habits to his kittens while simultaneously defending his backside from the rambunctious antics of Hyperion.

"Now, it's your turn," he told his kittens when he had pinned down his feisty boy. "You can't track a rat if you can't track me. You four close your eyes and count to twenty while I go hide. Whoever finds me first gets the first lick from the cream bowl tonight." The four kittens mewed with excitement and quickly ducked their heads to start counting.

Clarence dashed off and hid beneath the henhouse. He lay calmly waiting for his kittens to find him when the little red hen noisily rushed over to him. "Who will help me grind the wheat into flour? Who? Who?" She pecked at his fur as she flapped noisily around. 

"Not I," said the cat grumbling under his breath. "I'm busy."

"You lazy thing!" She squawked and she pecked him once more for good measure before she scurried off.

Clarence rolled his eyes at the hen and waited patiently. He watched from his shadowy hiding place as his kittens ran around the barnyard searching for him. He laughed each time Hyperion tripped over his own feet or JuJu or Mittens scared one of the ducks from their pond.

As Hyperion shot out of the doghouse, chased by two of the young, playful puppies Tiger chided softly "he's not very good at this, is he, Dad?"

Clarence's jumped to his feet and crashed into the henhouse above him. He hadn't even heard Tiger approach, but there he was lying calmly where Clarence had just been. The commotion from the hens above caught the attention of the other kittens and they came bounding over.

"Tiger wins," said Clarence, trying to slow his racing heart. "Well done. Now let's try you on some real rats."

Before they had all climbed out from under the henhouse the little red hen bustled up to them and planted herself firmly in front of Clarence.

"My flour is all ready. Who will help me make the flour into dough?" 

"Not I," said the cat. "The kittens are going on their first hunt."

"Cluck," said the little red hen, "I'll do it myself," and she entered the henhouse with ruffled feathers.

"Daddy," Mittens asked quietly, "why does the hen keep asking you to help? There are plenty of other hens to help her. And she has her chicks. And she doesn't really like us cats. And the farmer's wife always gives her bread anyway." 

Clarence smiled at his curious daughter and shook his head. "I don't know. But I do know the farmer won't like keeping us around if I don't teach you kittens how to hunt. Let's go," he said, and they raced off after the other kittens.

The farmer whistled a high pitch just as the sun was reaching the horizon. Clarence rounded up his kittens and they carried their trophies high as they made their way to the house for dinner. As they came out of the field, the little red hen was there waiting for them. 

"Who will help me bake my dough into bread?" the hen demanded. 

"Not I," said the cat wearily. "The farmer has called us in." He followed behind his kittens who were prancing about. As they walked up the steps to the farmhouse, each kitten dropped a small rat at the farmer's feet and mewed proudly. 

The farmer reached down and scratched Clarence behind the ears. "Good work, boy. You've done a fine job today."

The sky was dark by the time Clarence and Miss Florine snuck out of the farmhouse. The kittens had finally fallen asleep and Clarence wanted a chance to relax by the pond with his wife. He'd had a busy day and he was exhausted. As Miss Florine gently licked his face and ears, Clarence relaxed and was soon drifting off into a peaceful sleep. 

But the stillness of the night was broken by the sharp, angry clucking of the little red hen.

"Who will help me..." broke into Clarence's dream and he groaned. But tired as he was, the little red hen had been asking for help all day and he knew he should give help now that he was no longer busy.

"I will," said the cat. He got up to help, even though he hadn't heard what she was asking for help with this time. "What do you need?" he asked, but his voice was drowned out by the clambering noises of the other barnyard animals. 

"I will! I will!" they called as they raced past Clarence.

The little red hen threw her beak proudly into the air and yelled "no, you won't! I will do it myself!" And stalked back inside the henhouse.

Clarence sleepily turned back around and laid back down next to Miss Florine. "What was that about?" Asked Miss Florine. "Do you know what she wanted?"

"Not I," said the cat.

321. Unsanctioned Romance (March 10, 2015)

They say that I'm in love with you.

That you are really bad.

That you once had your brother killed,

At least he's not your dad.

They say that I'm in love with you.

That evil is your name.

That you love hatred, fear, and lust.

At least your mom home's not lame.

They say that I'm in love with you.

That you destroyed the world.

That you are chaos incarnate.

At least your hair's not curled.

They say that I'm in love with you.

That you're a man of war.

That you cause death, and pain, and strife.

At least you're not a bore.

They say that I'm in love with you.

That you could never feel.

That you would be a bad boyfriend.

At least you are not real.