more words than i ever thought i'd write about fish

Hello. It's Monday, and my hip hurts. I wish I could say it's from all the workouts I've been doing, but the truth is, I think it's because I hopped a little too enthusiastically when Joey and I were listening to the party freeze dance song for the 478th time this past week. 

I did get one workout in last week. Well, it wasn't so much a workout as it was a leisurely walk around the neighborhood because the temp hit 48 degrees for one glorious day, and it felt positively tropical. I wore leggings and my snow boots, since the sidewalks were slushy, and while we were walking Matt said to me, "Well, you are just the epitome of fashion."

Except he pronounced epitome as if it rhymed with metronome. But still, I appreciated the sentiment. 

Aside from our walk, the other big excitement from last week was that we got new fish, and by some miracle of nature and a bottle of Tetra Safe Start, they're still alive five days later. This was our third attempt at buying fish, from the same store, and the same employee helped us who had helped us a few days before. Matt asked her a question, and she said, "Remind me what kind of fish you already have?"

And Matt said, "Oh, we don't have any fish."

MAYDAY, MAYDAY. SHE REMEMBERED US.

She looked at him with the most quizzical look, but thank goodness she didn't look us and our terrible track record up in the system. We ended up with three tetras and three guppies. Did you know that guppies can give birth every thirty days, and have TWENTY TO FIFTY baby guppies each time?  We sure didn't.

Once the fish lived for a few days and we were pretty confident that the water conditions were finally optimal, we headed back to Petsmart to get just a few more because we are gluttons for punishment. Also because that twenty gallon fish tank Matt bought when he was overly optimistic about fishkeeping was looking pretty empty with six tiny fish. 

While Matt waited at the fish bowl, Joey and I walked around to see the animals. We have worn out the tile in Petsmart this pandemic, making at least two or three trips a month since about May. It's the perfect place to go, because it's never very crowded, Joey basically thinks he is at the zoo, and I'm not tempted to spend any money. 

So the two of us made our usual route from the cats, to the doggy daycare, wound around to the birds, and finished up with the hamsters. By the time we got back to the fish tanks, Matt was watching as tiger barbs were put into a bag for us, "because Joe likes tigers."  I know a thing or two about fish, and one of the things I know is that tiger barbs fall into the semi-aggressive category. The employee told us they'd for sure go after our prolific guppies, so she dumped them back in their tank and suggested another variety of tiny little fish. 

We got six of the kind she suggested, and as of this writing, we can only find three. We know that one got sucked into the filter, but the other two have disappeared. We can't find them anywhere. We are hoping the tetras ate them, which is a weird thing to say, but better than the alternative, which is that they are lost somewhere on my brand new carpets.

Matt told me the news of the lost fish this morning over breakfast, and we both agreed that we are DONE getting fish. This aquarium is closed, which the exception of the incalculable number of baby guppies headed our way. 

And speaking of our new carpets, after breakfast Matt and Joey went downstairs to play, and I followed a few minutes later. When I got into the family room, I noticed what looked like vacuum lines on the carpet. "Wow, did you vacuum?" I asked Matt. "Thanks!"

"No," he said, "I just dragged my feet back and forth on the whole carpet so that it looked like I vacuumed."

He was not kidding. He even demonstrated his method for me. 

"What on earth would make you think to do that?" I asked him.

"Well I was sitting here with Joe and realized the carpet is still new enough that it works. It's like our couch. Don't you remember when we first got it, and the material (it's a suede type material) was so new and I wrote 'boob' on the side with my finger?"

I know this will shock you, but I don't have any recollection of Matt writing boob on the side of our couch. I just hope my in-laws didn't see it. 

That is really the height of class and sophistication. 

Or should I say, the epitome.

animal house

Well, the last post around here was about Joey being born. We just sent him off to college this weekend, so time sure flies.

Just kidding. But he does turn 18 months old in a few days which means he's no longer my sweet little tiny baby, but instead a toddler who never stops moving and is obsessed with baked beans, his train set, and his grandparents.

My mom says Matt and I have a crush on him, and we totally do. She also says that one of these days the crush will end, but it hasn't so far. Although tonight he told me to "SHH" when I started to sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, so that day might be coming sooner rather than later.

Anyway, since my last post was about Joey's arrival, I thought it was only fitting for my return post to be about the newest addition to our little family.

Or, should I say additions.

Let me explain. 

A few weeks ago, Joey spent the day at my parents' house because we were getting new carpeting, and he  took quite a liking to my dad's beta fish. I mentioned this to Matt, and we talked about the fish for a day or two, and then that was the end of it. 

Or so I thought. Until the Fed Ex truck stopped last week and dropped a twenty gallon fish tank on our doorstep. 

I didn't know the theme of our week was about to be, go big or go to Petsmart. 

Repeatedly.

Matt excitedly brought the tank inside and told me had the perfect spot for it, on the low console table underneath our television.  It was almost like for a moment he forgot that we live with a very curious and determined toddler, who would only need about 3 seconds to throw a toy into the tank and/or splash fish water all over our aforementioned brand new carpet. 

So Matt carried the tank up to the upstairs bedroom that he is using as a makeshift pandemic office. He filled the tank with water, and after we picked Joey up from daycare, we took a trip to Petsmart to buy our new family members. We chose eight fish and some fancy tank decor, including bright blue stone, some plants, and a very realistic sunken ship to make the fish feel right at home. 

Now, I don't necessarily have a background in marine biology. In fact, I have degree in what my dad calls the very lucrative field of English. But I told Matt he needed to float the fish bag on top of the tank and let them acclimate slowly to the water. Matt doesn't have a background in marine biology either, but he used his computer forensics degree to determine my advice was fake news, and dumped the fish right on in. 

We went downstairs and then checked on them before bed. Joey excitedly ran right over to the tank to watch them swim around. Just kidding. He gave the tank half a glance, and then handed Matt the laser level so Matt could shine the laser pointer on the rug and Joey could crawl around chasing it and roar like a dinosaur. Listen. When you have a toddler during a long winter and a global pandemic, you get pretty creative with your pastimes. And that happens to be one of our favorites.

But I looked at the tank while the boys played with the laser and growled, and everything appeared to be going swimmingly. Sadly things changed overnight, because Matt took Joey upstairs to feed the fish the next morning, and walked back downstairs and said, "Well, they're all dead."

HATE TO SAY I TOLD YOU SO. 

That afternoon, we made the drive of shame back to Petsmart. We decided that if the same employee was working at the fish tanks, we would just breeze right back out the door and try again another day. But as luck would (or wouldn't) have it, it was a different employee. We got four fish, and when we paid, the cashier asked me if I would like a bag.  "No thanks," I told her, "this one will be fine."

Spoiler alert. It was not fine.

Hindsight is a plastic shopping bag. 

We headed back home and I held the fish on my lap.  I even took their photo as we drove, those little fish were safe with me!

We pulled into the driveway, and Matt got Joey out of his car seat. I stood on the driveway with my fish bag, looking at the snow that had fallen the day before and thinking about how I heard someone say that it was so cold outside the snow was actually squeaky. I thought about other words I would use to describe freezing cold snow, and it was at that moment my English major heart betrayed my marine biology one, because I heard a splash at my feet. I HAD DROPPED THE BAG OF FISH. 

Matt immediately jumped into action, which was good because I was kind of shocked and thinking about words I would use to describe cold snow. We managed to scrape three of the poor fish off of the driveway with my Giant keychain bonus card and get them back into the bag, which had popped but had a little water left in it. We couldn't find the fourth fish, and at the moment Matt said, "If he fell into the snow, we are losing time to save him," we saw him under the bottom of my boot.

Well, we saw half of him. 

I ran inside (kicked my fish boots off at the door) and dumped the three survivors into a Ziploc bag. Matt took my advice that time, and floated the bag in the tank. We gradually added fish tank water to their bag. We checked the temperature. We sang them lullabies, said a prayer to St. Francis, and went to bed.

Matt headed back up first thing in the morning to check on them. And then came back down with the news, "All three, dead."

Matt immediately ordered a water testing kit from Amazon, because surely the fact that we are amateur fish owners who DROPPED THE FISH ON A FREEZING COLD DRIVEWAY had nothing to do with their demise. When it arrived this weekend he headed up to the tank to test our water. He came back downstairs and said matter of factly, "Well, we have extremely hard water. The fish need it to be 60, and ours measured 180. I think we need to get a whole house water softener. And it just makes sense to replace the water heater at the same time."

That $8.00 water testing kit just cost us just north of two grand. 

We should have just gotten a dog, it would have been a fraction of the cost. 

My brother, who has had several successful aquariums in his day, suggested that we get a bacteria starter to put in the tank for several days before we add any more fish. So back to Petsmart we went, yet again, to get the bottle of bacteria. I don't know why we had to pay ten dollars for bacteria when I'm pretty sure I could have opened the fridge and found some moldy produce that I bought weeks ago with the best of intentions. But instead we shelled over our cold hard cash and came home and dumped some in. 

We figured that had to do the trick. Sadly, when Matt headed upstairs to his office to work this morning, I heard him say, "Oh man, what happened to my fish tank?"

It was so cloudy, it looked like someone had poured a gallon of milk in it. I decided to just hope things worked themselves out, and walked into the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee, where I saw this on the counter. "What's on the blue plate?" I asked Matt. 

"Oh that?" he said, "it's just a sugar cake that I'm making for my bees. I think they're about to run out of honey and this will give them the carbs they need to make it through the winter. I have to keep adding layers every few hours so don't touch it."

Did I mention we have also gotten a bee hive?

And people say kids are high maintenance.