Thou shall not lie (when there are witnesses)
Despite that, Loaf brought it inside and deposited it in the bathroom sink.
"You wash my crab?" she asked hopefully. "Peas."
I gave it my best shot, but after copious scrubbing, the icky black mildew was still caked all over it and worse, when I squeezed it, a giant blob of slimy, greenish black gunk came flying out of the bottom of it.
"Oh my God, it just shit in my sink," I thought. Knowing that mold is not exactly a health food, and knowing that my kids love to put stuff in their mouths, I gave up and while Loaf was distracted, tossed Mr. Crab into the bathroom wastebasket.
"Why did you do that?" asked Peanut.
"I'm sorry, but it's never going to be clean and that black stuff can make you sick."
A few minutes later, distraction over, Loaf came looking for the crab.
"Where my crab?" she demanded. "Where it go?"
Feigning stupidity (and wishing to avoid a huge meltdown) I pretended to look as baffled as she.
"Hmmmm. I'm not sure. I just don't know," I said looking around the bathroom. "Want a cookie? How about finger paint?"
But it was no use. I have known for a long time that Loaf is not one to be easily deterred, and this was no exception. I offered up a number of bribes, but none could take her mind off that stupid crab.
"I want it! I want my crab! Where is it?" she stammered. Now, this was precisely the scenario I was hoping to avoid, but at this point, there was no going back, especially since Mark had come in moments before and emptied the contents of the bathroom wastebasket into the bigger trash bag, which was now sitting in a barrel outside the house.
Just then Peanut came sauntering back into the bathroom. "Mommy, you know where it is. You threw it in the trash."
I shot her the stink eye, but it was too late. The damage was done.
As Loaf processed this information, her face slowly transformed from confusion to fury.
"MY CRAB! I WANT MY CRAB!" She peered into the empty wastebasket. "YOU GET IT! YOU GET IT NOW!"
"No," I said. "I'm sorry, but it was really dirty and now it's gone."
I had the next 10 minutes in which Loaf lay on the floor, kicked her feet against the wall and screeched bloody murder to think about what I'd done. And I'm proud to say I've learned my lesson.
I will not lie to my children again.
Unless I am really, really, REALLY sure there are no witnesses. Lesson learned.