So this post isn’t going to make any sense … even to me. You might just want to pass it on by. Unless you like meaningless nonsense.

We got new furniture in our familyroom this afternoon. This means that I’m sitting in a different position as I type on my laptop. It also means I have a different perspective on the room. I’m looking at the fish tank more now.

Last year when LightBoy turned 8 we gave him a fish tank for his birthday. It’s what is known as a “community tank.” This means that all the little fishies get along with one another. Although, the dainyos keep suspiciously disappearing. The snails must be awfully friendly, because they keep multiplying. We have a plecostomus (I’m sure I’ve misspelled that) … an algae-eater, and an African Knife (this is a cool fish with one long undulating dorsal? fin). We have a rainbow shark which is really pale orange and likes to stand on his head and wiggle a lot. We seriously debated one day whether or not it would do any good do engage in psycho-therapy for a creature with a brain the size of a pin head, because we think the rainbow shark may need it.

We have several other kinds of fish, but I don’t know their names. The African Knife hid under a rock for the first several months after we got him. Until he outgrew the hole. We have a gouramie, who is supposedly a schooling fish. This means that he needs at least 4 others in the tank. But when we get other gouramies, he gets paranoid and suspicious. We think he takes them down back alleys and kills them. We considered therapy for him too.

But the creature who causes me the greatest concern is this tiny frog. I forget his official name. But in my head, frogs are supposed to be amphibious creatures, who need to come up for air occasionally. This one really is aquatic and has gills, so he doesn’t. But when I see him swimming up the tank from the bottom, to me it appears as if he’s drowning and trying one last time to get up for air. I know this is not true, but I freeze and watch and pull for him to make it to the top to get his breath. But then he nonchalantly turns and goes somewhere else … because … well … he doesn’t need any air. After months of watching him I still catch myself pulling for this non-underdog to get his breath of air. What a dope I can be.