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Erik is not the jealous sort. Okay that’s not entirely true, but his Mama has always told him it’s rude to have tantrums and he is, at the very least, the sort who likes to make his Mama proud. So he tries to keep jealousy inspired tantrums to a minimum. All that to say that if it wasn’t really really important, he definitely wouldn’t have been whining about it. It’s his sister’s birthday party, which is a little boring because his sister’s friends are running all over the place, but Erik gets to splash around the pool and eat cake as well, so it’s not all bad.
It’s a big pool, too, which is good because Ruthie and her preteen entourage are taking up a great deal of the pool, being loud and splashy and obnoxious and everything a preteen girl is. Usually, Erik gets the deep end of the pool all to himself during Ruthie’s pool parties, since her friends much prefer gossiping in the shallow, but someone’s mother had gotten all of them matching mermaid tails to swim in. They’d spent the last two hours eagerly trying them out.
Erik watches for a while, alone in his corner of the pool. It looks fun, honestly. Erik doesn’t like his sister’s friends very much, but he would have played with them if he had a tail of his own. He’s not sure why he doesn’t have one. The mother who got them had made sure to bring one for everyone at the party, except Erik, even though everyone always knew Erik was at his sister’s parties. Maybe she hadn’t known what color to get him? But no, everyone in all of Genosha knows purple is Prince Magnus’ favorite color. He’d mentioned it in passing to a nosy reporter in a playground once and everyone at school had teased him about it for weeks. No doubt Helga’s mother knew it as well.
No matter how long Erik spent pensively swimming back and forth in his corner if the pool, he couldn’t figure it out. His mother usually knew things, so he climbs out of the pool to go find her. He shakes off the water on him - ‘like a dog!’ Ruth always says - though it doesn’t do much to stop the dripping of his swim shorts. (They’re a light blue with golden crowns printed all over, which his mother thought was very funny, even though Erik liked the purple ones with flamingos lots better.)
He finds his parents sitting on a pair of lounge chairs, by themselves thankfully. It’s the absolute worst when he tries to find his parents and ends up in the middle of some boring adult conversation. Erik tries to be sneaky as he goes over, though the dripping and giggling don’t help. His mother looks up towards him as he gets closer, so Erik drops the act and just launches himself into her arms instead.
“Mama!” he exclaims. “Did you see me coming? I bet not, ‘cause I’m the world’s sneakiest seven year old in the world.”
“Indeed you are, boychik,” she agrees, laughing as she ruffles up his hair.
His father is by far the more serious parent, but even he’s a bit lighter when they’re in private. “Did you come to negotiate more cake out of us or were you merely hoping to get your mother full of pool water?”
Erik laughs, shaking his head. “Noooo! I came over ‘cause Ruthie and her friends are all over in the deep end ‘cause they’re playing with their new tails and then I got to thinking, how come I don’t have a tail? Everyone else does! Mama, can I please, please, please get a mermaid tail?”
“You want a mermaid tail? Like your sister?” she asks carefully. She’s repeating things with that careful, diplomatic tone that Erik’s come to associate with hosting important foreign politicians. Maybe he’s not supposed to ask for this sort of thing, just like purple’s not supposed to be his favorite color.
Erik nods. “Yeah… Can I not get one?”
“Well, those toys are more for girls than boys. Wouldn’t you rather be a pirate? I bet Papa and your Uncle Erich would even take you out on a sailboat with your friends, so you could all pretend to be pirates together,” his mother offers. His father nods along beside her, though his not saying anything isn’t a good sign. Papa usually leaves the letting down to his mother.
“I don’t want to be a pirate, though. Pirates are mean,” Erik insists. “Boys can be mermaids, too! Princess Ariel’s papa is a mermaid and he’s a big, strong king. Couldn’t I be like that, too?”
“Of course, my little prince. There’s mer men as well, but the toys are for girls,” she explains.
Erik pouts and he’s not going to cry, because crying is for babies, but his bottom lip does get a bit wobbly. “Mama, you just told Ruthie the other day that girls can do everything boys can do and she shouldn’t let anyone tell her otherwise. Right? So why can’t boys do what girls can do? That’s not fair!”
His father lets out a startled laugh. “Well, you’re going to be quite adept at politics one day, aren’t you, little man?”
“Does being good at politics mean I get to be a mermaid?” Erik asks, moving from his mother’s lap over to his father.
His parents share eye contact and a few odd looks, probably having some sort of silent conversation to figure it out. Ruth can almost always figure out what they’re thinking at each other, but Erik’s not there just yet. He settles for just sitting there with a hopefully convincing pout, until his mother sighs and nods. “I suppose so. But only here at home, okay? In private.”
“Okay!” Erik agrees. He’s used to there being lots of things he’s not allowed to do in public, so he doesn’t think too much about it.
“What color do you want it, Erik?”
“Purple! Duh!”
“Of course, of course. What kind of silly question was that?”