Naughty Fish - UPDATE

Well, we thought it was about time 'Minty' the Molly fish was taken out of his padded high security cell and returned to the confines of the fish tank. We thought after all this time he would have learnt his lesson and would be ready to be reintegrated into 'fish' society.

Boy, were we wrong about Minty! No sooner had we dropped the four walls and waited until he got used to his surroundings, he was back to his old tricks, bullying the other fish, nipping and head-butting one in particular. This victimised fish, Jerry named him Shaun, was already wounded from the previous attack and still swims with a limp.

So..there was nothing for it. We had to take drastic action. I say 'WE', but as soon as Jerry knew what had to be done, he suddenly found some washing up to be done and decided to empty the dishwasher! I know!

I had trouble catching Minty so Jerry agreed to capture him, but said he didn't like to kill or murder so would have nothing to do with the actual 'act'. I reminded Jerry he was the one who actually caught Shaun, so was a conspirator to murder and that would also carry a heavy sentence...this knowledge didn't do much for his conscience, but who cares...at least he knows how to use the dishwasher now and that's the most important thing.

So with Minty in the little fishnet, I carried him to our family bathroom and hovered over the toilet bowl with him...wondering if what I was about to do was very wrong. Maybe fish DID have feelings...how long would it take Minty to die...should I have dropped him down our downstairs toilet which might be a quicker death as it had a macerator...should I say a quick prayer...

I felt a bit silly talking to God about Minty and asking for forgiveness, so I chose to just drop him in. I'm sure God was completely aware of our fishy dilemma and I should say at this point, I did call the Aquatics Store where we bought Minty to ask for forgiveness...I mean advice. They said re-home him. I asked if they would take him back and they said no...doh! Re-homing was easier said than done. Who would want an angry fish? So, there we were...hovering over the white ring of heaven. It was now or never. I dropped him in. He swam towards the side of the pan and before he had time to say "Damn" (get it?!), I pulled the flush.

It was only then I had a thought...I should have removed the blue cistern block. Now Minty's in the porcelain pipeway in the 'blue' sky. Job done. Jerry is still waking up in the night in a cold sweat saying 'Minty'!

Backward Clothes

How on earth do I manage to get pants on inside out and t-shirt round the wrong way? I'm a bit OCD about making sure I have my clothes the right way around as I remember being ridiculed at school for turning up with a label flapping under my chin. I never heard the end of it. It wouldn't have been SO bad if it didn't have 'Rontos' on the label...HOW embarrassing! I think I'm gonna write Gucci and Diesel on all Drew's labels when she starts school just in case. That's if we let her out of her under stairs cupboard long enough to go.


So back to my OCD. How, when I check as I'm dressing, do my clothes manage to do a full 180 and end up the wrong way around? It didn't happen BEFORE I had a baby. Is that yet more evidence of brain shrinkage? I don't know about other Mums, but I do think that from the time I wake up...I'm on a countdown. That might be a reason why I don't take as much care putting my clothes on now. I have certain things I must get done. There are things I should get done and then those that I'd like to get done. All against the clock...before Madam wakes up for her breakfast of milk, milk and more milk.

With the seconds ticking away, even pausing to think what I need to do next annoys me. I'm wasting precious time. The most important chores (for me) are getting up, showering and getting dressed. Then comes getting the feed ready for her Royal Highness and the subsequent sterilised bottles. As soon as you start manoeuvring around the house, you mentally add more tasks to the list...make the bed...put stuff in the dishwasher which has been left on the worktop above dishwasher by lovely husband...empty nappy bin in Drew's room (requires stealth-like belly wriggle on the floor past her cot so she doesn't wake up)...put washing on...fold and put away already dried clothes...have breakfast (that's one of the things I'd should get done)...watch last night's Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares (that's the like to get done). Then there's Barney...he needs walking. Can I give him a walk?? NO! I can't...she's asleep! Grrr...shall I wake her up so I can walk the dog? What's more important? Letting baby sleep? Walking dog? In the end, I slide open the french doors at the back of our house and from our dining room, I throw a soggy tennisball to the rear of our garden for 45mins. (well, its more like 20mins, but I don't know if anyone from the RSPCA is reading this).

Sometimes I don't even get that far. I usually get to as far as thinking about Ramsay (ah...what a thought!) and then...she's awake. Demanding to be given attention and fed immediately. Ramsay goes on hold. Channel 614 CBeebies goes on. Everything else goes out the window or has to be done in small chunks. Iron one sleeve of a shirt...take half the washing load out the washing machine...make a cup of tea with no milk...bring the nappy bin down as far as the bottom of the stairs...wash one of the 8 milk bottles...and slowly throughout the day, those half-completed jobs get done. All ticked off. Then Jerry walks in and sees everything done and thinks I've had a an easy day. Sound familiar?