Wednesday, October 12, 2011

I'm no pet sitter.

My husband had a trip for work over the summer.  So, while he was out of town, I was responsible for his share of the household duties, including his fish.  I've not been the biggest fan of his fish, and I haven't been shy about it. 

I headed downstairs the first night to feed the fish, look into the tank, and promptly have a sinking feeling in my stomach as I immediatly start calling my husband.

"Um, Keith, I think your fish are dead."

"Oh no, they just sleep and rest sometimes."

*awkward pause* "Do they sleep piled on top of each other laying flat on the sand?"

"Maybe you should send me pictures."


**You are about to see dead fish.**


He calls back and says I need to clean up the tank and get rid of the dead fish.  I have to do what!?

Then he thinks somemore and calls his brother, who is his partner is fish tank madness.  Next thing I know, at 6:00 on a Sunday evening my brother-in-law is driving an hour to come remove dead fish from the tank, clean it up, and make sure everything else is okay to turn around drive 60 minutes back home.  So thankful!

Nemo, our clown fish of course, surprisingly lived through the whole ordeal although he was certainly shocked.  When I found him he was leaning on the glass only moving a slight fin, and I swear if he had a tounge, it would have been hanging out of his mouth.

This whole time I'm feeling so guilty and terrible that only 12 hours after hubby left town, I'd killed the fish.  Fortunately, well at least for me anyway, it was determined that hubby had improprerly plugged in one of the units when he redid the electrical wiring.  There had been a storm the night before that caused our power to flash with electrocuted the fish.

However, my co-workers and hubby still tease me about killing his fish. 
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