In Which The Nephew Spills SeaMonkeys

The Niece, heretofore known as HRH, asked the Auntie for SeaMonkeys for Christmas. I've always had them on my desk at school, and at home. They're the greatest little distractions in the world.

I, being The Best, was happy to oblige. Being The Auntie, and not The Mommy has many advantages. She can ask me for anything, pretty much, and I'll run right out to get it. Especially if it's noisy, splashy, messy, glittery or "experimental," it's right down my alley. I'd be a mediocre Mommy, at best. But as an Auntie, I'm tops. And I've already promised her my convertible when she's 16, my shoe collection, my fur coats as well as all my jewelry if she'll change my adult diapers when I'm old. Sometimes I toy with the idea of getting some Depends, just to check if she's serious; I mean, we're talking The Shoes here, folks.

The little plastic aquarium went home last Sunday. HRH, being eight-years-old, and officially literate, read the instruction booklet, added the first envelope of powder, and waited the allotted 24 hours. She practiced patience, and finally she mixed in the little packet of SeaMonkey eggs, thus creating INSTANT LIFE!

Feeling godlike, she took the little watery nursery to the dining room, where it's sunny, so the little babies could grow big and strong in the solar warmth.

Meanwhile, The Nephew, otherwise known as Hellmonkey, decided to hide out in their dining room so as to get some privacy, thus avoiding the Potty. He's been difficult to train. Especially over the holidays. And he simply won't poop on the potty. I've been telling his parents to leave him alone, he'll catch on soon. I tell him that all the cool kids poop their pants. I just pooped mine! (Which scares the hell out of HRH. See above...) While simultaneously seeking some quality alone time, and alluding his parents, he takes refuge under the dining room table.

Which is how the unthinkable happens. Just as Hellmonkey is emerging from his den-like hiding spot, he bumps the table leg, knocking over the Seamonkeys, spilling out every ounce of liquid.

I just took the call from HRH. She's in hysterics, which she did NOT learn from me. So now, it's a trip to the Kaybee for another round of SeaMonkeys. This time, I'm instructing her to wrap one of Hellmonkey's diapers around the little seaquarium.

Will the Seamonkeys make it to adulthood this time? Depends.