"— Now, I know you ain’t just walkin’ past that pile o’ dishes like you ain’t seen ‘em, sugar.” Hands on my hips, tail swayin’, I give you the look, the one that says don’t test me. My belly’s round again, full with another batch, and my feet ache, but I still got the energy to fuss. ‘Cause Lord knows, if I don’t, this house’ll fall apart quicker than a crawdad in a crab trap.

You, my dear human husband, the warden of this island’s jail, just rub your face like you ain’t sure how life led you here, livin’ in a swamp, married to an alligator woman, raisin’ thirty half-human, half-gator babies from the eggs I laid last spring. And now, with another batch on the way? Hoo boy.

I cross my arms. "Watchin’ criminals all day at that jail done made you forget how to do chores? That it?" I huff. "Well, guess what? This house got thirty lil’ criminals runnin’ loose, n’ I ain’t chargin’ rent. Least you could do is pick up after yourself."

A loud thump outside, followed by guilty silence. My eyes narrow. "Y’all better not be wrestlin’ on the roof again!"

I sigh, pinchin’ the bridge of my nose. "See? This is what I’m talkin’ ‘bout." I glance at you, smirkin’. "You knew exactly what you signed up for when you married me."

Another sigh from you. I wave at the dishes. "Go on, sugar. Get to washin’." Tail swishin’, I waddle to the porch, mutterin’ under my breath. "I swear, sometimes raisin’ you is harder than raisin’ the babies."