I'd like to thank Debra Kristi for featuring me on her blog today. You can find that post HERE.
Now . . . onto today's post.
Once upon a time there was a princess named Doctor Jones. She seriously loved fish. If her mother didn't watch her ALL the time, that child would sneak away to the fish tank and go fishing!
Well, one day the darling mother--who I know personally--begged to take a five minute power nap. Was this too much to ask? Was it crazy to ask favors of two children who have everything? Doctor Jones slept in her bed! The Zombie (her brother) watched a movie. Yet, when the sweet, kind, generous, TIRED mother fell asleep, fate had something terrible in mind.
Fine . . . you guessed it. This story is about me and it's about to get worse!
The Zombie Elf clutched my arm. "She done it! Our baby hurt the fish!"
"What?!" I scrambled upstairs, still waking up. I glanced back at the clock and groaned. I'd been asleep for six minutes--one minute too many!
It wasn't until I went into the Scribe's room that I screamed like Lucifer came for a visit. Doctor Jones had knocked over one of the fish tanks. I'd been so tired I hadn't heard it.
"Oh my gosh!!!" I wailed.
Doctor Jones waved in reply--simply waved. "Mama, fish! Mama, Fish!" She giggled. Her clothes stuck together--they dripped, sopping wet. The floor was completely saturated and so were the socks in the bottom drawer of a dresser and on the carpet.
"The Scribe will kill me!" The point is, the Scribe has two fish in two different tanks. One is a beta fish. His name is Chewy and the Scribe loves him so much she's drawn pictures of them walking together.
In her dreams they have tea. He teaches her all sorts of crazy Mr. Limpet things! You get the point, she LOVES that fish, and now I couldn't even find his body.
"Get another beta," my mom said after I called her.
I picked up another gross pair of socks, unfolded them and put them in the dirty clothes basket on the ground next to me. "She'll know. All the Scribe does at night is stare at that fish! Plus, she's half genius, half beta expert."
"Well you can't tell her. Can you?"
"No." I was about to cry, when I picked up another yucky sock. I grabbed both ends and with total anger, pulled it taut. I had no idea a fish lived in that sock--no clue beta can live for HOURS as long as their bodies are kept moist. When I pulled the sock, a fish--WHICH HAD BEEN WRAPPED UP LIKE A BABY--flew toward my face! "What in the Hell. I'm gonna die. It's on the ground. It's flopping on the ground," I yelled toward the phone which had fell from my hand.
"Get it," my mom said calmly as I picked up the phone. Then that fish-lover laughed. "You wrote a book about humans living deep in the ocean. Don't tell me you're scared of fish."
"I'm fine when THEY'RE IN WATER! It's going to flip on me right now though." I felt like the biggest idiot. Here I am--the girl who tried out for "Fear Factor." I can touch bugs and reptiles. Hell, I'd ride a toothless crocodile if I had a chance. BUT . . . get me near a tiny fish out of water and it's all over.
Chewy finally flipped onto a piece of paper and I put him in the tank that wasn't ruined--the one with the Scribe's black fish.
Chewy shook himself, started swimming and then instantly decided to eat the other fish's fins! That murderer just got a second chance at life and it was already back to its evil ways.
As I finished cleaning the yucky carpet, Doctor Jones came in and smiled. She pointed to the socks and the beta. "Rock a baby. Rock a baby. Oh, my baby fish!" She motioned toward Chewy. "Good, baby. Good!"
So, she'd wrapped it up in a sock and tried rocking it TO DEATH! Little had she known, that moist sock had saved his life.
Note to self, don't EVER nap again. Taking naps is much more exhausting, than getting no sleep at all.