Saturday, May 13, 2006

24 Cents Down the Drain

I think I know how it happened but I'm not sure. It's not a bruise but nothing seems to scrub it off - soap, astringent, nail polish remover, Soft Scrub, sand paper.

One of Allie's new fish is dead already. No one seems to be too upset. Goldie or Frankie (we never got to the point where we could distinguish between the two) got unceremoniously flushed last night. I think the fact that the water in their bowl became a fetid soup of rancid fish shit in just a matter of hours helped speed the grieving process.

The smell was foul. Just a day or so after we got the fish Debbie called me into Allie's room. After the requisite, Do you smell that? we searched for cat poop or a dead rat in the corners of Allie's bedroom. Then I hung my nose over the edge of the fish bowl. The sound of my dry heave let Deb and Allie know I'd found the source of the smell.

So now we're down to one fish. I'm sure that will help slow down the rate at which the bowl converts itself into cesspool. Now all I need are suggestions for helping a fish overcome loneliness. And a few tips for removing this mark on my head would also be appreciated.

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