Die Fish Die!
A few months ago you may have noticed a fish on my bar (yes, a live one). The adoption of Fredrick II began with fishsitting him for my parents when they went out of town. Apparantly, upon their return, Fredrick went into depression when he was returned. Mum was convinced that he was on his last fin because he's lasted freakin' forever, and his last days should be in happiness on my bar. This made me very unhappy because there's huge responsibility in fish care, namely feeding him. Also, finding a floating upside down fish is not a positive start to my morning, and I fear that scene each day. M-o-n-t-h-s later let's note that he's live and sassy. Die! Get out of my life! You take up space on my bar! Unfortunately I don't have the guts to flush him and mum's quite convinced that he'll go back into depression if he's returned. If this keeps up I'm going to have to buy another stupid bottle of fish food.