True Life: I'm a bad fish Mom

Cooper loves fish. He loves them so much that we decided to get him his very own tank, little did I know how much work it would be. The water has to be juusssttt right or the fish will die... And die they did. We lost many a goldfish in the Caldwell house. Did I give up? Heck no. Especially when you can get TEN goldfish for 3.00...

 

It took about two months to get the water just right, so I decided it was time to get some cleaner fish.Who knew that goldfish were so dirty? No one likes to spend their Saturdays cleaning a fish tank! Out with the gold and in with the new I always say! I immediately took cooper to the pet store and let him pick out his new "bish." He was especially interested in the Balloon Mollies. One of the fish he picked out seemed kinda fat. "Is this one pregnant?" I asked the nice fish salesman. "No," he assured me.

FYI: Never trust a fish salesman. They are worse than used car salesmen. We got home and the fish loved their tank. One loved it so much that she basically doubled in size in a week.

She got fatter and fatter and fatter...

 

I had a feeling that she was pregnant, so what did I do? I went to my trusty old friend Google of course. After extensive research, I realized this fish is definitely pregnant. I found a long list of directions on how to make sure she has the perfect conditions:

 

1. Create a hiding place for the mom (Apparently pregnant fish are moody)

This was surprising to me, I was Never moody when I was pregnant...

(insert sarcasm here)

 2. Buy a guppy net for the babies to make sure the parents don't eat them... WHAT?!
The tank is in Cooper's room. I don't want him to have nightmares about parents eating their young...

3. Monitor the mom and remove her from the guppy net as soon as she is done giving birth.
(I have always laughed about "birth plans")

4. Buy special baby food for the babies

 

 

I realized right then and there that I'm just not cut out to be a fish breeder. I don't have the desire (or the time) to save these babies. If they get eaten, I'll just consider it as money saved on fish food. Britt agreed.

 

This morning I walked into Cooper's room and the fish obviously wasn't pregnant anymore.

SHE HAD HER BABIES AND DIDN'T TELL ME?!?!

Luckily, I found one that didn't get eaten and saved him. He is about the size of a grain of rice. So for now, "Rice, Rice Baby" is on my kitchen counter in a wine glass.

 

Cheers!

 

My beloved Christmas vacation will be OVER tomorrow.

Back to the real world and outta these sweatpants I go!