The one crab....

As I type today, I sit with my feet up under me, as far from the floor as possible.
Here's why...

I bought Kevin a fish tank on his first birthday after our wedding. We filled the tank with 10 or so small fish and called it the "Waters of Mormon". We had the three nephites, Lamen & Lemuel, Helamen...and then when all the fish died off except one, we named it Moroni. Corny, I know.

The fish tank has been empty ever since...well except once when we caught some frogs. We kept them in there for a few days- and they died too. Which has led me to believe that this fish tank is cursed.

Well, about a month ago, Kev and I decided we'd try again. We spent a Saturday getting the fish tank all ready for some new fish. We were pretty proud of how well it turned out:

We bought some really neat fish:

a shark named "Bruce", a black angelfish, a zebra cat-fish, a bunch of tiger barbs which all school together, this long black one who looked like it had the face of a dog but moved around like a ribbon, and....

the TWO CRABS...(dun dun dun)

At first I was ok with the whole crab idea. It was cute how Halle and Drew wanted to call them "Mr. Crabs" and "Mrs. Crabs". Then Tiffany and I sat in front of the fish tank (for two whole hours...literally!) watching those crabs and getting really freaked out. Their spider like legs, their spider like eyes, their spider like . . . . everything. aaaaagh. We had the chills then and I have the chills right now thinking about it.

And then the fish started disappearing. And then reappearing half eaten.

One night, Jessica was over. I was reading scriptures with the kids before putting them to bed. Jessica screams "WHAT IS THAT???" and there is Mr. Crabs creeping up the stairs toward the bedrooms. Jess caught him under a plastic cup but we could hear him clickety-clacking under there. I scooped up the cup/crab in a net to dump him back in the tank but when he started climbing down the net's stick at me I threw it. The kids were screaming. We all were screaming. Ever since, Drew's been saying "We hate the crabs, hoo-wa Mom?"

After mask-taping over every tiny hole on the fish tank lid, I tried to forget about it. Didn't work. Every time I passed the fish tank I got the heebie jeebies. Feeding the fish suddenly was a dreaded part of the day. And THEN, on Tuesday the next week, I had some Young Women/Young Men over at my house and a deacon yells "THERE'S A TARANTULA!". Yes, now Mrs. Crabs was running out from behind my computer desk trying to get under the couch.

I was flushing one dead fish (or half a fish) down the toilet a day. Kev and I weren't totally sure if it was the crabs eating the fish or the curse. Then one day Halle is screaming. In the fish tank, is her favorite fish SPEARED by a crab and he's EATING IT with the other claw. Gross mystery solved.

Over the weekend I was thinking "I haven't seen the crabs in a few days." I tried blocking the visions of waking to sharing my pillow with crab-spider-eyes.

Late last night I went down to the laundry room to switch my bedding from the washer to the dryer. Today I went back down there to bring it upstairs and THERE WAS THE DEAD-SMASHED-CRAB IN FRONT OF THE DRYER!! Which leaves me with two explanations:

1. He wondered through my house, down to the basement (shiver) and I stepped on it (shiver) last night without realizing.

or

2. He fell out of my bedding (SHIVER) when I was putting in the laundry.

THIS IS WHY YOU DON'T BUY CRABS, PEOPLE!

The good news: the one crab is dead.

The bad news is: The other one is around here somewhere. . .