Little Fishes, Big Responsibility

I've always had eyes bigger than my stomach. Ideas bigger than reality. And a mouth bigger than my ears.

I just can't help it.

I remember, years ago, telling my sister that when I am older and living in my dream house

<--------------(this house here)

I was going to have a fish tank in my kitchen.

Not just any fish tank. 

I was going to have a custom tank built into the wall between the counter top and the cabinets. You know that strip of wall I'm talking about? Yep. All tank. Going the entire length of the kitchen counter on two walls. 

Of course, at the time of this brilliant idea, I had a sole beta fish living in a bowl upstairs that I would feed a few fish flakes before going to bed at night, if I remembered.

That's all you have to do to take care of fish, right?

Just ask my boyfriend. 

Or better yet, ask him about his new device that sends him text messages about the temperature, pH, and conditions of his tank on a regular basis. 

Ask about the hours he spends changing the water and testing the water. 

Or about building a screen top so that one of the fish doesn't take a suicidal leap out of the tank.

Or about the research that goes into buying fish that are compatible with each other.

Or about the time and money you put into a fish, only for it to often die a few days later.

Sheesh. 

Lucky for me I have a boyfriend who will do all this work, while I sit and "ooo" and "ahhh" over the little fishes. And whenever I sense that I'm about to be recruited for helping, I make a quiet exit out of the room. 

So about my really awesome fish tank idea: it's still a go. 

Only now I'm need an another ingenious idea: how to convince Brian to make it happen. 

Brian's Other Love