Once upon many years ago, I got a sea monkey kit for my birthday. I was THRILLED beyond belief to have my own aquatic monkies (I didn't know they were just brine shrimp...THAT was a disappointing moment of my life), and eagerly read the instructions.
Apparently the sea monkies were too good for tap water, and had to have either distilled (what the heck is that? my tiny brain wondered) or boiled water.
Oh good. I knew how to boil water.
The boiling of the water and the ensuing cooling of the water took F-O-R-E-V-E-R (probably an hour adult time), and I was super tempted to put the hot water into the sea monkey tank, but thought better of it. Boiling the monkies alive seemed super mean.
Anyway, the water FINALLY was cool enough (probably the same temperature that makes most people want to use the potty...my sea monkies were going to being piddling all over the place), I put the called for amount of water into the tiny tank, sprinkled in the dormant sea monkies, and then waited for them to grow and become magical, finned primates. I had them in there for all of ten minutes when the tank was
I honestly don't remember what caused the spill. Emily was (is) completely fascinated by all wild life, and probably was trying to get inside the tank to go swimming with the sea monkies, and, as you can probably imagine, tipped the whole thing over since the tank was about the size and span of her hand.
I was devastated. All that work, all that anticipation, down the tubes (or, rather, down the table legs and onto the floor).
Emily surprised me by giving me a sea monkey kit.
I was ecstatic! AT LAST I WOULD HAVE THOSE ILLUSIVE WATER PRIMATES!
I put the kit in the craft closet in the kitchen, and decided to wait for a good day to do it (like one where my children wouldn't think drinking the water was fantastic...so, in about 18 years).
Yesterday, I was feeling all sorts of productive and decided to clean up the craft closet. Which meant the doors were wide open.
Which meant the sneaky snake I gave birth to three years ago decided the bright red sea monkey kit looked like tons of potential fun, and slithered away with it, Eden in tow.
I was distracted for quite some time and decided somebody should check on the two littles, and sent Joshua looking for them.
Joshua has perfected my tone of voice when somebody (typically Lily) is doing something super bad.
*GASP* "LOOK. WHAT. SHE. DID!"
I struggled to get up off the floor, and waddled into Lily's room.
There, all strewn about the floor, were the sad remains of the sea monkey kit. Eva put a toe experimentally into the powder, and I pulled her away, exclaiming, "STOP THAT!" The last thing I needed was for Eva to go into anaphylactic shock because of some dried brine shrimp.
Lily looked at me wide-eyed as I turned my wrath in her tiny direction.
"You are in SO much trouble..."
I quickly assessed the carpet situation and decided that I could vacuum up the mess, and did so, glaring at Lily the whole time as she sat on the top bunk of her bed with her face buried in her blanket, except for her mournful eyes.
I turned off the vacuum, and she moved the blanket from her face.
"Sowwy, mommy..." she said quietly.
Well...I guess it was just never meant to be. Maybe there is some cosmic reason I'm not supposed to experience the thrill of having my own sea monkies. Maybe it's because the universe knows that I would end up killing them...like the gold fish I bought the kids a few years back. He lasted all of, like, two and a half days. Sea monkies seem a little more fragile.
And now for a little haiku:
Little Sea Monkies,
Spread across the beige carpet,
Watch out for Lily.