Momma Fish Move.

We moved the two momma fish out of the main tank last night. My husband is becoming a real pro at this. Inherited Fish aren’t like goldfish, where you just reach in and benignly scoop them out. No sirree. Inherited Fish see that net coming and they lead you on a merry chase through the water. Swim up, flip, swim down, flip, swish, swish, swish. They’re jumpers, too, hopping right out of the net just when you think you got ‘em. Moving them is a challenging and somewhat time-consuming project. Who knew little pregnant lady fish could move like that? Add to that the confusion factor of, “Did we get the right one?” “I don’t know, I can’t see her chin… NO! Don’t lift her out of the water! Just bring her in the kitchen where there’s better light!” Yeah, I’m a bossy sort when it comes to Inherited Fish.

Did I mention I bought a digital electronic water thermometer? I guess I should mention that little tidbit of news since our evening last night was consumed with conversations that went like this: “The temperature went up from 75 to 75.4. That’s a lot.” “They’ll be okay, babe.” Lakers game noise. “Now it’s down to 75.2. I hope they’re gonna be okay.” “They’re gonna be fine.” Lakers game noise. An hour later. “The temperature’s to 74.8. Why is it fluctuating like this?” After numerous stressful questions about the temperature and my husband's reassurances, I hear, “I’m gonna take that thermometer away from you if you keep worrying like this.” And my tearful response of, “Noooo, don’t you dare!” Yeah, I’m a barrel of monkeys to be around when my fish are pregnant.

Yeah, and just now, I went downstairs and discovered that hot to trot male fish has impregnated yet another female. I think I’m gonna start mailing fish to creditors as payment.