Crabitat

I went to Wal-Mart tonight and was greeted with the unfortunate sight of many, many hermit crabs that had been subjected to torture. Their shells were painted red and pink and they were meant to be sold as Valentine gifts. Yes, I'm serious. Valetine's Day. Can you believe this? Nobody wants a crab from their sweetie! NOBODY. Is that some sick way of telling your special someone that you have a veneral disease? The test came back positive, so you thought you'd be "cute" with it? NO! NO! NO!

The marketing technique was just amazing as well. The top shelf was billed as "Crab in a Cup" for a mere $3.50, while the deluxe edition, "Crabitat," was $8.50. I found a little guy I liked...or pitied, one or the other. He was a member of the crab ghetto and only had a cup to call his home. The cups really sucked because they only had some water and a few red pebbles. (The crabitat guys got sand! Sand!) I stood around for SEVERAL minutes trying to decide if I wanted to buy the guy, but ultimately decided my cat would eventually get the best of him and then I'd feel guilty. But before I left (Crabless! Ha!), I expressed a desire to to move him into a crabitat. Because I knew he'd love me for it. He wanted OUT of that cup. And then I'd be his hero! Because then he could run around in the sand with his weirdly shaped...? What were those things called, I wondered aloud? Anne suggested lobes, which, I don't know where that came from, but I knew it was wrong. I was thinking claws or pinchers, but since we couldn't decide, we decided to go with the general term "things." Which led to me saying, "So he could feel the sand beneath his things!" Which immediately led into a musical version of "Wing Beneath my Wings" that no Wal-Mart associate had ever seen or heard before. I'm pretty sure the greeter thought we were drunk because I left the store singing "Crawl! CRAAWWL! CCCRRAAAAWWWWLLLLL! Crawl so far! So far you almost touched a.....star!"

So now I feel so guilty for not hooking my little Hermie up with a crabitat. Because then he could thank me. Thank me. Thank god for me...the sand beneath his things.