Getting Lucky With the Mermaid

Getting Lucky With the Mermaid

My cousin loved to have costumed performers appear at the birthday parties for her twin girls. My kids were pretty close in age to hers. My oldest son was 4 at the time. He has autism and even though he was a sweetheart he did not understand respect for personal space or social skills at the time.

The theme for that year was The Little Mermaid. The house looked great with all the under-sea decorations. The party atmosphere was rocking and the adults were having little parties of their own throughout the grounds. The entertainment was late. A van pulled up and parked onto the curb. “Ariel” arrived with her long red wig askew and smelling of whiskey. To make things worse, poor Ariel had the signs of a fry in the oven with her baby bump obvious in her midriff baring costume. She was a pretty cute little mermaid in spite of her condition and was giving some of the the guys "fishbones". Her fishtail sparkled brightly sending prisms of light throughout the room. She had the kids dancing and singing and playing games and having a great time.

Ariel sat the kids down for story time and was bending over her treasure chest of  supplies when hilarity struck. My son was so entranced by the sparkles projecting off Ariel’s butt that he started to rub her buttocks and said, “Ooooh! Nice! Nice!” while he appeared to grope the mermaid. I was pregnant at the time and almost pissed my pants laughing. The men were making comments about how my son was “getting lucky”, and “some guys have all the luck”. Ariel stuck around to enjoy the festivities and food after her performance and was a pretty nice gal. I only hope poor Ariel learned to curb her fondness of the drink and that her little fry was born healthy. I have to say that was the most memorable party my cousin ever threw. It sure beat those God-awful Chuck E. Cheese parties she had. My ex-husband got stuck up in the suspended hamster tunnel trying to coax our son out. To make matters worse, he’s scared of heights and the tunnel was see-through and hung just below the high ceiling. My son had come down by himself to stare at his trapped father from below. Ah, good times, good times.