Sea Monkeys Were Not As Advertised

A disappointing life lesson about deception

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They didn’t look like this.

Not at all.

I was finally successful in convincing my parents to give me the money to order the Sea Monkeys that I’d seen in ads across every comic book I read. I was thrilled!

Imagine having a lovely Sea Monkey family living in a tank in my bedroom. Smiling, happy, entertaining…

This was going to be good.

For only a $1.25, I too would soon be looking on in fascination at perpetually happy creatures who would simultaneously solve this young child’s boredom and feed her fascination as well. What’s not to like?

Back in the day, there were no e-transfers or online debit payments. Heck - credit cards were processed in manual machines that looked like this:

“Will that be cash or Chargex?”

For this reason, ordering and paying for something from a comic book or magazine was a big deal. I can’t remember how my mother paid for the Sea Monkeys. It may have been via credit card (I was a kid with no money, remember?), with the numbers provided to a kindly customer service lady over the phone or, perhaps a money order that was mailed in. Regardless of the type of payment, it was a commitment to buy something sight unseen, because doing so required that you do some work to get the goods.

Which made the anticipation of the items arrival so much more extreme.

It took a while but in the meantime, I could prepare for my new playmates to arrive. Their new digs had to be just so. I wouldn’t want them to be disappointed upon arrival. It had been made very clear to me that these creatures were happy. So very happy. Who would have the heart to take away their joy? Not me.

Finally, the plan was in place.

I would be setting up my Sea Monkey family in a dedicated corner of my desk, in my bedroom. Under the window, this happy family would reside, watching the sun rise in the morning and enjoying the slow onset of dusk. I had thought long and hard about how to set up my coming family of sea creatures, as they seemed so happy in the ads, I didn’t want to rain on their collective parade.

No sir, they were to be set up in a location that would keep them smiling, happy, content.

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The big reveal

The day had finally arrived. They were here!

The unassuming brown wrapper clearly belied the excitement that lay within. In just a few moments I’d be meeting my new family. The anticipation that filled my body was palpable. After all - I was going to meet my new family and special playmates. What could be better?

Slowly, gingerly, I opened the package. I didn’t want to risk hurting the Sea Monkeys as they made their debut into their new home. Imagine my surprise when the big reveal revealed…well…not much.

From what I remember, there was a plastic container, some water purifier and some Sea Monkey eggs. No smiling mom with a bow in her hair; no patriarch standing lovingly over his family, protecting his wife and kids.

No - there was nothing of the sort.

I had been conned.

It was at that time that I realized that the world was a very cruel place. That things were not always as they appeared. That the Emperor had no clothes.

There would be no smiling family of sea creatures awaiting as I awoke from my slumber. Nor would there be any joyful new friends who would happily lull me into slumberland each night. Just some dried out, weird looking “eggs” that I was supposed to add water to and then watch them come alive.

At that point, I knew it was a ruse, and that my doing so would only add insult to injury. I did it anyway, probably with the hope that on the off chance I was mistaken, the Sea Monkey family that I had longed for would finally appear.

Nope.

Something appeared, alright, but not the representations that were advertised in the comic books.

After a number of weeks, there did seem to be signs of life and they indeed looked like sea creatures. Just not Sea Monkeys.

In case you were wondering, this is what real Sea Monkeys look like:

Clearly they are far from the smiling, happy family of sea creatures that they were advertised to be.

They’re shrimp

So what were these creatures anyway?

“Sea Monkeys” are actually brine shrimp. That’s right: shrimp. The eggs are packaged dry so that the go into a state of extreme hibernation called cryptobiosis and can remain dormant for years until exposed to water. Once in water, the eggs hatch into what is called “nauplius larvae” which eventually turn into adult Sea Monkeys in about 8-10 weeks. Basically, that’s it. Brine shrimp. And they don’t even smile.

False advertising and life lessons learned

Like many new lessons learned in childhood, this one was an eye-opener.

How on earth could they (marketers and sellers of dubious aquatic life forms) market smiling families of sea creatures to kids who they knew would be disappointed upon receiving their order? Was this bait and switch worth the money being made off of children’s beliefs that what they see will be what they get?

Perhaps the sellers of Sea Monkeys were trying to teach kids some of life’s important lessons. If this was they case, they succeeded.

Life lesson learned: all that glitters is not gold.

Another life lesson learned: when it seems too good to be true, it usually is.

Final life lesson learned: caveat emptor.

All meaningful and sobering pieces of advice, in retrospect. But for a kid simply hoping for a bowl full of new, underwater friends, all of these life lessons ring hollow.

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