A couple of days ago we noticed that my daughters hermit crab, which she named Monica, was burrowing in the sand. “Ah ha!” we thought, “She is FINALLY going to change shells.” She’s been living in that Sponge Bob shell ever since we got her.
Little did we know that her plans were less about changing shells and more about changing worlds. After sitting in the same spot and starting to turn white, we realized something was very wrong. When my hubby picked Monica up, she fell out of her shell… dead as a doornail.
So we said goodbye to Monica and have hopes that Mr. Crabbs won’t be terribly lonely without her. (Buying another crab is not an option… I wasn’t crazy about this whole idea to begin with.) My daughter taped a “tombstone” to the aquarium they lived in, in the corner that Monica lived her last moments before meeting her maker… or whatever happens to crabs when they die.
I wrote this little ditty for her tombstone, but it won’t fit on such a tiny space, so I’ll share it here:
Here lies Monica.
She never mastered the harmonica.
We’ll love her still,
though her grip could kill,
and she didn’t like electronica.
(If I don’t make my kids laugh, they’ll cry…)
Rest in peace Monica Crab!