Some friends are on vacation and have left me (and the Fellow) in charge of their pet fish. I was supposed to go to their house everyday and drop a palm-full of fish food into the tank. Of course I did it. And made the Fellow do it too. In fact we ended up taking turns in feeding the fish, with me praying each day we didn’t find them dead and floating (I mean, I loved Finding Nemo and it would just be too traumatic to flush the little thing (s) away).
And then I had to travel for work (sounds so important when I say it like this no?). Yesterday, while I was chatting with a cousin (yes, work takes me around family. Fun) I suddenly remembered the fish. I called the Fellow immediately, who, as it turns out had just remembered them too! After telling him where the house keys where (men I tell you!) I turned back to the cousin. “Feeding fish didi?” she asked. “Yes” I replied. “Online?” she returned?
I knew then, that something in all of us (or at least my cousin) has had to have died, when feeding fish reminds you of online pets. I mean seriously? With all the Farmville and Fishville going around, whatever happened to the real thing?
Well, 5 minutes later I knew. The real thing had died. Well, 3 of them at least. Apparently the oxygen pump stopped working and 3 fish floated up before rescue in the form of the Fellow arrived on the scene.
Scoop. Drop. Flush. Sigh.