Sometimes things happen, unexpected things. Sometimes these are small, inconsequential steps that simply add up when you're not expecting it.
Several months ago, My Beloved and I along with Ragin' Cage and his dad went to the nearby (sort of) Pumpkin Festival. Actually, this festival is during the fall months here in fly-over country. So, you see it's been several months since then. Yeah, so?
Well, during the festival filled with rides and fair food there was this game...land a ping pong ball in the bowl of water and win a goldfish. Those games are very hard to win, not that I'm saying they're rigged against you, but well, you know. The problem is, his ping pong ball landed in one of the bowls and he was the happy winner and now owner of a fabulous goldfish.
So again, what's the problem?
Well, we took the goldfish home, now named Mr. Waffles and put him in a large glass bowl. And there he sat, and sat, and sat. We kept changing the water every few days but Mr. Waffles lived on. We figured what the heck, goldfish don't live too long. But he kept on going, and going, and going until finally, we had to do something.
And so it began. We finally had to break down and spend money on a small tank for him to live in. I got tired of seeing a bowl of water on the kitchen counter. So, twenty-five dollars later for a small filtered tank and Mr. Waffles had a new home. But Mr. Waffles looked lonely. He swam around and hid behind the plastic plants for a couple weeks before we broke down and bought a companion fish, Oreo, another goldfish.
So they have been swimming around now for another month living happily together. Today however the tank had to be cleaned. We realized Mr. Waffles was getting black spots and likely an ammonia buildup was the cause, so, another ten dollars for a siphon to clean the bottom of the tank.
This little fifty-cent gold fish has now cost us about $44 in equipment and supplies, not to mention a companion. I guess that's the price you pay for raising a little boy. Oh, we also have a tree frog, but that's another story altogether.
Ramblings of a 60 Year Old Man - My thoughts on just about anything, in no particular order; Robert Thomas - author.
My parents started down a near twenty-year journey through two huge fish tanks and innumerable scores of fish thanks to a single Oscar way back when I was a kid. I don't know that any of us actually liked fish or raising them, but we all slogged through refilling the tanks (which were nowhere near the closest water source, leaving us to do it with pots and pans), feeding them, and trying to keep the cats from killing them. Sometimes I think about those times and say, "I'd love a small tank again," but no. No no no. I like looking at fish but I don't envy people having to care for them.
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