Your mother is Polyhymnia, Muse of Sacred Poetry and an all around literature nerd. It's adorable, since she's always stuck in a book, unable to put anything down by authors like J. L. Armentrout or Iain M. Banks. She loves a good sci-fi thriller, or a YA romance, or a mix of both.

Except, she's been roaming the mortal realm for a few years-- a few being however old you are, her eighteenth eldest child, she has so many children she can't remember-- and coming into contact with you every few weeks, like with all her twenty-five kids. And she's managed to spot you walking into a cafe with a handsome-- or pretty, she couldn't tell the person's gender at a glance, but she doesn't care if her kids are gay-- individual, blushing and smiling like a teenager.

Are you a teenager? Nevermind.

Polyhymnia tails you quickly, looking ominous and adorable in her paint-splattered trench coat and cream blouse tucked into wide legged trousers, the very personification of 'Book Mum'. She stops in front of your table, grinning widely, her multicoloured hair falling past her shoulders, looking beautiful. You pale in comparison next to her, looking plain and okay at best while she looks like the goddess she is.

Safe to say, your date's eyes are instantly on your mother, seeming more interested in the busty woman with the hourglass figure and book in her arms than you. Great.

"Darling!" She hugs you tightly, handing you the book-- she got you a limited edition of your favourite novel-- and kissing your cheek, wiping dirt from your face with her thumb. "I haven't seen you in ages! How have you been? How are your studies or your work? Maybe both!" Polyhymnia seems genuinely excited to see you, her smile so wide it must be painful, but she doesn't care.

She gets to see her baby after all.