Union County Union County - Carolina Weekly Newspapers

Community
egan’s ant
Maybe Mom
was right
I’m not as deprived as I
once thought
by Regan White
regan@unioncountyweekly.com
When I think back on my childhood
and try to recall things my parents
denied me, the list is very short. Sure,
there were the everyday things that my
parents said no to – unlike my sister,
who never asked for anything, I was a
mouthy kid who took a shine to most
anything my eye alighted on, from grocery
store checkout air fresheners to
key chains and stuffed animals. None of
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these denials stand out, because these
were things I didn’t really want. I was
just running my mouth. And for a girl
who liked pretty much everything she
saw, it was prudent of my parents to
put their feet down on a regular – if not
hourly – basis.
That said, I was spoiled and I know
it. It’s crazy and deliriously wonderful
to know that in my entire childhood I
only can think of two things I never had:
Candy Land and Sea-Monkeys.
I really wanted Candy Land. All my
friends owned it (one of the primary reasons
my mom refused to buy it). She also
pointed out repeatedly that there was
nothing to the game. One didn’t learn
anything playing it past the age of 3. Or
that was her argument anyway.
We would later learn the game was
created by a polio survivor, Eleanor
Abbot, as a game that could be enjoyed
by children suffering from the disease.
Who’s the bad guy now Then again,
as mom might point out, I didn’t have
polio and was fully capable of running
around over settling into a board game
that didn’t even require simple math.
For a mom who made it her mission to
make everything educational, a game
that included a character with the gross
misspelling “King Kandy” just rubbed
her the wrong way.
It didn’t matter. Anytime I saw that
candy cane-striped lettering peeking out
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from friends’ closets, I’d beg them to take
it out so we could play. You should’ve
seen the looks. They didn’t know I was
making up for years without Princess
Lolly and the Gingerbread People. (Is it
a coincidence that sounds like the name
of an awesome band I think not.)
And still, my Candy Land void wasn’t
felt acutely.
It wasn’t until the other day at work
that I was reminded of the only other
thing I was ever deprived of, so I guess
I’m not really scarred.
I knew what they were the moment
the tank showed up on my co-worker
Debbie’s desk. “Are you breeding Sea-
Monkeys in there” I asked, curiously
looking at the clear plastic tank.
“Yes!” Debbie said. “Isn’t it
wonderful”
Staring at the empty water, I nodded
slowly. She explained that the water
needed to be purified for 24 hours before
the eggs could be added. The official
Sea-Monkey Web site said bottled water
is best to start the tank before adding
“water purifier” to create a safe Sea-
Monkey environment. The site adds,
“If you cannot afford (bottled water), or
bottled water is not available, boil tap
water and let it stand overnight before
using it.”
I would argue that if you can’t afford
a $1.29 bottle of water, then maybe you
shouldn’t be shelling out $8.99 plus tax
for a starter kit of your very own brine
shrimp.
So we waited 24 hours. And Debbie
added the “Instant Live Eggs.” It took
another five days before we could make
out the tiny things. Thank goodness the
wait occurred largely over a weekend.
So we all came in on a recent Monday
and I can’t even tell you what they
looked like. Not that the cartoonish,
flesh-colored creatures on the Sea-
Monkey box are anything to get worked
up about. The drawings make them look
like two-legged aliens with merman fins.
These don’t look like that. They don’t
even look like shrimp.
They just look unnatural.
“Aren’t they adorable and absolutely
magical” Debbie asked.
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“I think my mom was right – they’re
filthy little things,” was all I could
muster.
Despite a couple days of dormancy
when we thought they all bit the big one,
the Sea-Monkeys continue to grow bigger
and more disgusting. They’ve proven
to be quite educational around the
office. It’s hard to focus on story editing
when two Sea-Monkeys have been having
relations for two days straight in the
next room. I hear they can copulate for
three days, a goal Debbie’s Sea-Monkeys
seem to be attacking.
What’s so wonderful about Debbie
is that she’s the most beautiful parent,
even to creatures as ugly as these
Sea-Monkeys. She doesn’t have children
yet, but you can tell even if they
emerge looking like the briny offspring
she raised first, she’ll still love them
unconditionally.
She’ll argue with the rest of us about
their amazing biology. Sometimes she
waxes poetic about their (very wide-set)
black eyes and the nasty way they move
their bodies. (Think millipede but in the
water – and stranger.) But to her, they’re
beautiful.
According to the Sea-Monkeys distributors,
this tank could last around two
years if Debbie plays her cards right and
feeds and aerates the tank properly. I’ve
been tempted to buy her an upgraded
tank – maybe with a light on top, and a
castle or spaceship inside – but I feel as
though I’d be condoning the activity.
And while the miracle of life takes
place on a daily, maybe hourly, basis on
Debbie’s desk, I can’t help but think my
mom was right in never buying me my
own tank of Sea-Monkeys. I also keep
wondering how many tanks of failed critters
have been poured mournfully into
our water systems. The Sea-Monkey site
assures: “Sea-Monkeys are in no way
harmful to humans or the environment.
If they somehow find their way into natural
waterways or sewer lines, they simply
will not be able to survive outside of
the formula.”
Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want to
swallow one of the little buggers, either. q
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