Shell-Shocked

We have a pet clam. It was an accident.

Long story short, we were in Malaysia attending a work conference. Our oldest daughter, Emma, also went with us. One afternoon, Emma and I were looking for shells on the beach. I found the clam shell. I thought it was cool because it was whole and unopened.

The clam spent four days out of the water, two days in a suitcase, survived three aeroplane rides, and when we got it home, we noticed that the shell had opened a bit. We tried to open it all the way, but the shell suddenly snapped shut. That's when Emma shouted, "Mommy, it's alive!"

So now we have a Frankenstein bivalve, and I am doing Google searches on "Caring for your pet clam." (Add that to the list of things I never imagined myself doing...) In my defense, I had no idea. I assumed that all shells washed up on the beach no longer had living creatures in them.

One dog, three hamsters, and a clam named Shelldon (I was told to make sure I spell that with two l's). I think I have a new definition for the word "nonplussed."