Paul

Amy called me last week. She had a great idea for a birthday gift for Spencer but wanted to run it by me first. She wanted permission, because the idea was a "pet" (that's how she worded it).

There was a looooong silence on the phone. I was running through all the possibilities that Amy could be proposing. This is the order in which they popped in to my head:

For obvious reasons I was not pleased with the idea of any of these "pets". Then she said she wanted to buy a fish with a little aquarium. "Oh!", I said. "That would be great!" (while letting go of the breath I had been holding for like 45 seconds).

Here is wide eyed Spencer seeing his new pet for the first time.
We had to treat and condition the water for 24 hours, so we waited until Monday afternoon to put the fish in the aquarium. Spencer was so excited.

Getting ready for the big pour.

There he is, in all his betta fish glory.
It was a proud moment for Spencer.

So, I go to work this morning and I get a text from Michael asking how much we're supposed to feed this fish. I text back- "just like 4 to 5 little nuggets. Put them in the lid and then let Spencer dump them in."

Here's an example of the amount of food the fish should get. This is actually more like an example of 2-3 too many nuggets.

The alternate title of this blog post is "Michael is having a bad week and I'm going to pick on him again". Here is the amount of food that Michael, somehow, inexplicably, accidentally dumped into the tank.

This is what the tank looks like now. A bit cloudy and toxic.

We're hoping that the filter will take care of this overnight. If it doesn't we have no Plan B. We're screwed.

P.S. In case you didn't figure it out, the fish is named Paul.