"Look, Mama, I have a tail!" *splish splash*
She pretends to look sad, eyes downcast.
"I wish I was a yuman."
"Yes. I wish I was a yuman so I could marry my guy."
I don't say anything, I just keep scrubbing her down, probably a little too vigorously.
"Alls I have is this tail. I have two arms, a tummy and seashells on my boobies. See?"
"But (again with the downcast eyes) I wish I was a yuman like my guy. Papa told me not to go to the Seawitch but I did'n listen. Papa wants me to stay with him and my sistuhs but I need my man so I need legs."
A dramatic sigh as she splish-splashed some more.
Rather than throw up on us both, I silently curse Disney and offer to wash her hair in the pretend beauty salon, complete with Marge the Hairdresser. When that distraction failed, I dangled the promise of a popsicle if we ended this episode of Mermaid Angst immediately.
Sugar overrules a guy any day when you are three.