I have been on cloud nine about my fish tank. In the excitement of my child's birthday, I forgot to mention that Mr. Secret Reef came to do a water change and remarked heavily on how great everything is doing. He was so impressed he brought me a Hi Fin Red Banded Goby, one small enough to match the size of Thing One and Thing Two... my barnacle blennies that are supposed to be scared.
Anyway, he dropped that little guy in, I saw him once that night, and he's been missing ever since. I think the cannibals in the tank ate the new guy. Secret Reef swears he's a master of hiding, but my trusty mag lite has not located said fish we were jokingly calling 'Hidey'...(Heidi).
I then realized that a certain zebra striped damsel acts like a baboon... he spends 80 percent of his day making the rest of the tank denizens' life hell. He's gotta go. I signed his eviction notice on Secret Reef's next visit.
He hopes he'll find Hidey then. I doubt it. I would love to be wrong.
ACCEPTING THE SANDWICH: Moments of harsh reality can be short: so bite hard, chew and swallow. I talk about everything from marriage to kids and pretty much whatever life flings my way. The rebel in me still wants to wish in one hand. The Realist makes me wash my hands and brush profusely.
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