So um ... How's the family?
If you can't tell yet, I don't have much experience writing in these kind of things. So please, bear with me.
A moment ago, I was doing a load of laundry. Exciting, right? Well I was afraid I wasn’t going to have enough hangers for what I had dried. But lo and behold, I had just enough. So that was my victory for the day. You know, aside from waking up next to the beautiful Erma.
I think I’ll use this time for a little show and tell.
I don’t remember what the fish in this story looked like, so let’s pretend it looked like this.
I had a fish. It was a really cool fish. It died. The end.
Ok, now time for the slightly more grown up version. But only slightly.
Once, when I was a child, my family had a fish tank in the living room. In this fish tank, was some water, a few fish, and maybe some of those little fish tank pebbles and one of those little fish castles. Well one day, I guess I got it in my head that I wanted to play with the fish and pet them. I was bored with just tapping on the glass and seeing if they looked. So I climbed up to the tank (I was small and it was on some kind of stand). I reached my hand down inside and pulled out my favorite fish. I think it was a baby shark. I believe that’s what someone told me back then. I didn’t then, nor do I now, know anything about fish. So for all I know, it really was a baby shark. Well I looked at it in my hands for a moment, and then I heard someone coming. I got scared and I think I fell back off the stand. As I fell, I instinctively threw out my hands, and of course the fish/shark … “fark” ? No, no … That doesn’t sound quite appropriate. “Shish” ? Yes, I think we’ll go with that. Anyway, the shish of course fell to the floor. I got scared, because I knew someone was coming, and I guess I knew that I wasn’t supposed to be randomly pulling fish out of their tanks. So I kicked the poor little thing under the stand. I don’t remember what happened after that.
To this day, I don’t know what happened to the shish. I often wonder if there is a tiny shish skeleton lying on the floor of that old house. But I don’t want to go knock on the door and ask the current residents if I can go “Shish skeleton hunting”. Would that be considered paleontology? No, I think that’s just dino’s. How old are fish? Sharks have never evolved, right? Oh, this reminds me of a show and tell story from grade school. We had to bring in 100 of something. Not sure why. Maybe we were learning to count to 100. But anyway, I went home and I was so excited. But soon I was frantically searching through my toys. For the life of me, I couldn’t find anything I had that I had 100 of. I looked at my toy cars, my Lego’s, everything. In my desperation, I started counting one thing as two. When that didn’t work, I began the tactic of combining things like 90 toy cars, and 10 Lego’s.
The moral of these stories is simple. #1 - Don’t buy a child something he/she can drown with air. I’ve never heard a story of a time when a kid desperately wanted to swim with his/her cat or dog and held it under the water till it died. So buy them something they can pet without killing it. Probably a good idea. #2 - Always buy your children 100 of everything. Because you never know.
Sincerely,
Ambrose
P.S. - I feel like I’m in the witness protection program. I feel like I should be testifying against some big time mobster.
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