So, on Easter Sunday, after the awesome green hair/purple hair worn by my daughter and my pastor, we came home to our Easter baskets. There were no surprises there, for those readers who do not know, I must confess that I am the Easter Bunny. At least in my house, I am. I am rarely surprised by what goes on there, but Sunday was a day for surprises.
"Mom, you're in a good mood now, right?" Cathy asked. This is never a good sign. My good moods rarely last after bad news, like that she wants another piercing, or that she fed our dog the lunch I packed for work, or whatever it may be. But, she was so excited, and when she pulled me by the hand and asked me not to get mad, I tried not to. She had been hiding something from me, something small and alive, under her bed. His name is Kid Cuddy. He is a hermit crab. He had been living in our house since January.
Cathy thought it would be great fun and rebellious to buy a hermit crab, buy him a carrying case so she could take him places with her, like on walks, feed him and clean his cage every night after I went to bed, and see how long the secret could last. "I'm such a rebel," she kept saying, with pride, as she recounted her elaborate deception, and which of her friends found out about Kid Cuddy, and when she had told them, and so on.
And then, she asked me to blog about this. Usually, I am asked NOT to blog about things, because my girls find stories about them embarrassing. This time, she was so proud she pulled one over on me, she wanted the world to know. I don't mind sharing that I knew nothing about the crab under her bed. I'm just glad it wasn't a hobo.