by Kathleen M. Muldoon
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July brings to mind my attempt to get a new bicycle during my summer vacation before starting seventh grade. I wasn’t able to do the jobs my friends could, such as walking dogs or mowing lawns, so I had to be more creative. I needed a job I could do at my own pace, and that summer I thought I’d found the ideal situation, advertised on the back page of my comic book.
Sea monkeys are nature’s wonder! They’re the perfect pet. Little to no maintenance. Create instant life when your package of magic crystals arrives containing hundreds of sea monkey eggs. Teach your sea monkeys tricks and amaze your friends! Get your sea monkeys today!
I read and re-read that ad. I didn’t plan to amaze my friends, I planned to collect money from them. At first, I decided to do that by holding sea monkey shows. But it would take me most of the summer to train them, and we had a small apartment that wouldn’t hold a big enough audience even if I could get a show together.
I went to Plan B, selling the cute little critters. There were tons of kids in my apartment complex. At a dollar apiece-one sea- monkey per kid-I’d earn enough to buy a bicycle after my first sea monkey shipment. Before I could put my plan into action, though, I had to convince Gran to let me send away for them.
My grandmother was a firm believer in letting me learn from my own mistakes. So, when I presented my sea-monkey idea, she simply reminded me of the seed fiasco from the previous summer-also a comic book send-away that promised me a new bike if I sold a gazillion packages of seeds. To me, though, this was an entirely different, sure-to succeed plan, so despite Gran’s reservations, I sent my $1.49 (a dollar of that was for postage) and then sat on the apartment steps each day waiting for the mail.
Three weeks later, a rather small package arrived and I raced to my room. There was no time to lose, as July was rapidly coming to an end. I ripped open the box and quickly read the directions. There were paper packets of food and something called a “water purifier.” I didn’t have time for that; I needed to get my sea monkeys hatching.
I’d had my goldfish bowl clean and waiting. It had housed my previous pet, Clarence, a black fan-tail goldfish who’d lived a week before jumping out of the bowl. I filled it with water and dumped in the sea monkey crystals. Then I waited. And waited. July passed into August before I noticed stuff floating around that looked like specks of squiggly larva-these were my baby sea monkeys, hundreds of them! I grabbed the food packet and dumped it into the water. By week’s end the water turned cloudy; this was a good thing, the instructions said. As soon as the water turned clear, it meant the sea monkeys had eaten all the food. The instructions also said not to feed the sea monkeys right away, but by the time I read that, it was too late. The deed was done.
The water never cleared. It smelled like dead fish. Finally, when Gran could stand it no more, she flushed my sea monkey farm-and my hopes of a new bicycle.
That was another hard lesson learned. Have you ever sent away for something that didn’t quite meet your expectations? Have you ever had a money-making scheme go awry? If so, share those experiences with other readers by e-mailing them to action@unitedspinal.org or mail them to:
KIDS IN ACTION
United Spinal Association
75-20 Astoria Boulevard
Jackson Heights, NY 11370-1177
Maybe your experience will save others from having their dreams flushed away!
Kathleen M. Muldoon is a children’s book author and writing instructor for the Institute of Children’s Literature. She lives in San Antonio, Texas.
