A VERY FISHY TALE.

Did I ever tell you about Bob and Henry?  No?  Well your luck just wore out.  Bob and Henry are our fish... or were our fish.  Actually Henry still IS our fish... Bob (why do kids always name their fish Bob?) passed on yesterday.  We were expecting it.  He had been swimming upside down for a few days.  Rocky was convinced that he was okay, that he had just decided to start swimming upside down for a change.  Yesterday morning he decided to lay motionless on his side on the bottom of the little fish tank.  Of course every parent knows that the only way to fish heaven is via the sewer line so I flushed Bob after a moment of silence.  Rocky was very upset when she returned home and learned that I had disposed of the fish before she could say her final good-byes.  Then, as if I hadn't done enough harm already, my bladder decided that it needed relieving.  I had no idea that there was a mourning period following the death of a fish.  The look of horror and disbelief on poor little Rocky's face when I opened the bathroom door after using the 'flush-atorium ' to relieve myself not five minutes after telling her that Bob had recieved at 'burial at sea' is not one I will soon forget! 

Soooo, feeling guilty I took all the kids down to the pet store to buy some new fish to go into our new tank.  If you have never driven a car full of teens and pre-teens, count yourself lucky.  I was immediately overruled by the majority as far as the music selection went.  In went Art's cd.  Funny how singing groups now days have names that are either deliberately mispelled or is comprised of numbers.  This one was 81 something.  Art insisted that it was patriotic.  How could he tell, all these guys did was shout!  They didn't sing, I don't even know if they were using words, if so it probably wasn't English!  I protested and Becca immediately accused me of being a 'hater'.  She then proclaimed that she was a 'hater-hater!'.  Indeed!  I pulled the car over to the side of the road and told her 'If you hate me so much, get out and walk!'  She immediately apologized and I pulled back onto the street.  'You're a 'hater-hater-hater!' she accused.  I let her have the last word, its a skill she will need for when she gets married (soon, I hope!)

Now we have tank full of beautiful tropical fish.  And Henry, the goldfish is King of the Castle.  If any of the new, smaller fish were to challenge him he would just eat them, no problem.  All of the fish will have names by dinner I'm sure, and I'll bet that one will almost surely be called 'Bob'.