...yet, another post on Myrtle. Meet our newest member, the South Carolinian hermit crab,
Isn't she purty? Some guy found her (I use "her" loosely since I really don't know) on the beach and gave her to my boys who were smitten. In fact, all the kids in the family wanted a piece of Myrtle.
I have a history with smuggling crabs home from vacation. Some of you might recall me stashing a Jamaican crab in my suitcase 3 years ago. His name was Joe and he was awesome.
He lived about a year with our family before committing suicide. He refused to pick a shell out of the abundant options I gave him when he grew out of his little white Jamaican home. I guess American shells weren't good enough? Anyway, to put it nicely. He dried up. Sad. Parker is excited to have a replacement.
Crabby Myrtle gets to sit as decor on out souvenir travel shelf. Maybe I'll get her a new prettier vase from our next vacation if she decides to hang around.
Did I just blog about a hermit crab? Must. Get. A. Life.