For Christmas my daughters got a fish tank. It had the plants, filter, food, whole nine yards. Normally I would be against more pets as pets means death (a natural part of life, which happens and is a great life lesson).

Now I understand that this is a pretty shallow reason for not wanting more pets but think about it with me for a second. I am one man with three other women in the house.

That is a lot of estrogen and emotions to handle.

And so, we went to the pets store (after a week of prep time, filling the tank, water checks all that). Now it comes down to it.

Which fish? What colour? How many?

After the 45 minute discussion of why can’t buy all of the fish and the conversation about how “Daddy, that fish is eating the other dead fish!” goes on, we walk out with a few beginner fish and happy little hearts. The fish are now resting in the new home and will now be tormented by fingers tapping and wide eyed gazes from two curious little people.

Hope this entertains them for a bit.

Hug a pony my friends.

PS No animals were harmed in the writing of this post. The writer however is pulling out his hair over one of the fish who isn’t swimming around enough for little girls.