One Fish, Two Fish, Dead Fish, Blue Fish

Nathan got a new fish tank for his birthday. He also got a bunch of new fish to put in it. Unfortunately, our skill with fish does not seem to have improved since the great fish blight of  ’08. It has been just over 24 hours since we actually put the fish in and we have already lost four. Matthew has been keeping track:

For those of you not fluent in reading phonetic spelling, here is the translation:

Cichlid in pineapple

Cichlid in castle (the pineapple and the castle are little fishy hideouts in the new tank)

3 tiger barbs dead

1 cory (I think this line was a mistake)

1 cory cat dead

3 African rainbows

1 plecostomus

We'll see if we can keep the rest alive...

Something's Fishy

We're having trouble with fish. Lots of trouble. It's almost like there is some kind of strange aquatic curse on our house that works to prevent fish from being happy and healthy. Seriously, if they don't just die, they seem determined to commit suicide. We would just give it all up, but the fish belong to our five year old. And he cares. A lot.

After the loss of three goldfish (two to parental incompetence and one to fishy gymnastics), Nathan was thoroughly discouraged with goldfish and chose a beta instead. It was a beautiful blue fish with multi-colored fins. Super fancy looking. He was called Rainbow. We came home and put the fish in the tank. Remember the one we purchased after we lost the first fish to aeronautics? The one with the lid? Well, we stuck the fish in there and for several weeks all was well. Rainbow was healthy, the water was clear, we even remembered to feed him. But today, disaster struck. On the lid of this tank, there is a small opening in the back to allow air tubes and stuff to pass out of the tank. This opening is seriously small, only about 1 inch by 1 inch once you take into account all the stuff that is filling it. But at lunch time Kev suddenly realized the fish was gone. You, like us, are probably thinking, "No way!" And I'll respond, "Yes, way!!!!" Somehow that dumb, crazy fish managed to jump out of that teeny, tiny space and ended up drying out behind the fish tank! I didn't think betas did that! They can live for years in a wine glass, for crying out loud! But we had to get the one beta that not only has aspirations to fly, but is a contortionist as well!

Poor Nathan has started asking for a turtle.

A Phase and a Fish

Matthew is going through a phase where he gets stuck in stuff. He got stuck again yesterday . . . twice. I know I am a mean mom for taking pictures instead of helping him get out of his predicaments right away, but it makes me laugh so hard that I can't help myself. Besides, when he grows up I want him to know how funny he was as baby. And by now he really should know better than to play with the VCR.


In addition, I really thought he had learned his lesson with this particular cupboard on Sunday. Apparently not.


I just can't figure out how he got himself shoved in there like a sardine.

Speaking of sardines, Nathan got a new fish yesterday. Actually, he got two new fish. After the whole flying fish fiasco, we went ahead and bought him a small tank to replace the bowl. I love that it costs $40 to get a home for 24 cents worth of fish. But Nathan loves it. And we came away from the pet store with yet another great story.

We went to Petco after I picked up Nathan from school, picked out the tank, and headed over to the check out to get someone to help us get our fish. The girl at the check out looked at the tank in our cart and asked if we were planning to buy the tank today. Umm, duh. But I didn't say that. I just very politely said yes. She then informed that that the tank has to be set up for 24 hours before the fish can go in so she couldn't sell me any fish today, come back tomorrow. I informed her that we already have a bowl and she told me that it has to be set up for 24 hours. By now I was starting to lose my patience. I informed her, in not quite as polite a voice, that the bowl is set up because the other fish had died only yesterday. Then she asked what kind of fish I wanted. I told her I wanted goldfish. And she started giving me this whole thing about how we couldn't put goldfish in that tank because one goldfish needs at least 12 gallons of water and that means that two goldfish need a minimum of 24 gallons of water and she has an 85 gallon tank with tons of goldfish (In my head I was doing math: according to her info, she can only have seven goldfish in her tank, not tons). That was about the point where I had lost all patience with this girl. I informed her, in a not very polite at all voice, that we had a goldfish in a bowl this big (I showed her with my hands. Our bowl only holds about two quarts.) and that the only reason the fish had died was because he jumped out of the bowl and dried out. So she asked which fish we wanted. Double duh. The goldfish, the 12 cent ones! She replied in a rather snotty tone that they don't come with any kind of a guarantee anyway so she would ask her manager about it. Which she did. And the manager immediately came out and sold me two 12 cent goldfish, which she thinks will do just fine in our little tank unless they get too big. Of course, the snotty girl rang up our purchase and as I was swiping my debit card informed me several times that it had to run as credit (even as I was punching in my pin number which it won't ask for if the card is trying to run as credit). Her last comment, in a supremely snotty voice, as the debit transaction was completed was, "I guess it liked it." Poor girl. There is probably a reason she is working at Petco in the middle of a weekday.

But all's well that ends well. And Nathan is thrilled.

Moby Dork

Nathan's goldfish is gone. I don't mean gone as in dead (although he is most certainly dead). I mean gone as in disappeared. Missing. Not in the bowl. When Nathan sat down to eat his breakfast this morning, he immediately exclaimed, "My fish is gone!" And he was. Several weeks ago the fish propelled himself out of the bowl, flopped across the table, and was lying on Nathan's place mat gasping when Kevin found him. So I assumed he had pulled another Houdini and began searching. We looked all over: on the table (including under the piles of junk that tend to accumulate because it is a flat surface), under the table, behind nearby furniture, in the shoes that live nearby, Daniel and Nathan even got out their flashlights and peered under the stove and the fridge even though I was sure the fish could not have flopped that far. But we could not find the fish.

Eventually we had to give up for a time in order to get everyone ready for church. I got dressed, the boys sat down to eat breakfast, and then Kev came home from his meetings. When he heard we had a rogue fish, he began researching everywhere in case I had missed something. I was pretty sure I wouldn't miss a dead fish, but I wouldn't bet the farm on it. As the clock kept on ticking, we again had to abandon the search. I was brushing my teeth and Kev was getting Matthew dressed when I heard Daniel yell, "Whoa!!! I found the fish!!!" And sure enough. There he was, stuck to the back of Daniel's bib (Daniel only wears a bib when he is eating in his Sunday shirt because he only has one white shirt and a stray bit of ketchup would ruin church for Mom). He had been sitting there wearing the fish the whole time! He admits quite freely that it kind of freaked him out.


Poor, dead, dried out fish. He must have flung himself out of his bowl sometime soon after being fed last night because he was completely crunchy. And not in a good fish stick way. Nathan asked Kev why we couldn't cut the fish. I think he is super curious about what a fish looks like inside because he asked me during the great search why we couldn't see fish bones and in my distraction I replied that we had no idea where the fish was so of course we couldn't see his bones. Poor, sad, bummed out Nathan. during his preschool birthday celebration on Wednesday, he counted the fish as a member of the family. So now we need a new fish. And a bigger bowl. With a lid. Perhaps a fishbowl by Tupperware.

In conclusion, please join me in a moment of silence in remembrance of Goldfish. May he rest in peace.



Stupid fish.