After we got home, Kiddo #2 seemed like he wasn't feeling great, so Husband snuggled the heck outta him while Kiddo #1 and I cleaned her turtle tank and her bedroom.
Kiddo #1 caught the 5 feeder goldfish and put them in the jar with the gross water and the plants and the snails, and scooped up Jelly, our turtle. While she played with him in her room, I began removing the rest of the water from the 10 gallon tank. I really don't change the water more than once a season-- the fish and snails really keep the tank pretty clean. It's a sweet eco-system that makes me sing Lion King songs all the time.
Of course, there also comes a point, usually after Jelly has consumed his weight in ESCARGOT, that the tank begins getting super gross. And around that point I start yelling at the fish tank about how we'd paid 19 cents for the feeder goldfish, and they're much bigger and tastier and the snails are $3.50 a piece and since when did Jelly decide he was a freakin' gourmand?!? Gah!
Of course, there also comes a point, usually after Jelly has consumed his weight in ESCARGOT, that the tank begins getting super gross. And around that point I start yelling at the fish tank about how we'd paid 19 cents for the feeder goldfish, and they're much bigger and tastier and the snails are $3.50 a piece and since when did Jelly decide he was a freakin' gourmand?!? Gah!
I looked at the fish and plants and snails in the 1 quart jar swimming around and just had to watch them for a bit. I really didn't think about all the hours I would spend watching Jelly and his friends/food interacting in the fish tank Kiddo #1 so desperately wanted. I really thought Kiddo #1 and #2 would be the ones fascinated, not me. Ain't nobody got time for THAT! But I will wander to the children's bathroom (where we keep the tank) at least once a day.
I find it incredibly relaxing to watch the goldfish circle around. Snails are amazing to me: I can watch their little sucker-mouths all day. And Jelly is so strong! Turtles always look like they're old and feeble, plus they have a bad rap for being slow. I think Aesop's fable was actually one to trick us into thinking turtles are slow-- Jelly is one quick mamma-jamma!
I love let the Jelly run from palm to palm. I'll flip him onto his back and rub his belly to make him sleep-- ok, I saw that last part on a documentary on alligators and tried it once on the turtle because they're not that different (or was it a documentary on dinosaurs? I forget.). I don't know if he likes it or if he's playing dead to get me to leave him alone. Either way, I feel like I'm being a good turtle mommy and either way, he gets to go back in the tank shortly after indulging me, so life is good.
I love let the Jelly run from palm to palm. I'll flip him onto his back and rub his belly to make him sleep-- ok, I saw that last part on a documentary on alligators and tried it once on the turtle because they're not that different (or was it a documentary on dinosaurs? I forget.). I don't know if he likes it or if he's playing dead to get me to leave him alone. Either way, I feel like I'm being a good turtle mommy and either way, he gets to go back in the tank shortly after indulging me, so life is good.
When Kiddo #1, red faced, entered the bathroom and said, "Mom, did you move Jelly?" and I said, "No. I've been busy cleaning his tank." I had a bad feeling. I said, "Kiddo #1, where did you leave him? Aren't you holding onto him?"
Kiddo #1: No.
Me: Why not?
Kiddo #1: I put him down because you asked me to tidy my room.
Me: You can't just put the turtle down! Where is he?
Kiddo #1: I don't know! And if I couldn't put him down, then you shouldn't've asked me to clean my room!
Me: Ok. Uh. Where did you leave him?
Kiddo #1: Here. (pointing to a Rubbermaid bin lid)
Perhaps not unbelievably, Jelly our beloved turtle, broke free of his minimum security holdings. Perhaps unbelievably, Jelly was no where to be found. I mean, No. Where. To. Be. Found. Husband and I picked up everything off Kiddo #1's floor, moved stuff out of her bathroom, out of Kiddo #2's room. Nothing. We disassembled her bed, took her mattresses out of her room ... nothing. We searched high and low. No, we searched low and lower, to no avail. Oh sure, we knew we'd find him in the next week, but we didn't really want to find Jelly with our noses, if you know what I mean.
After his first 24 hours out of the tank, I had a red clock like the one from 24 running in my head.
Boop-Beep-Boop-Beep.
After Day 2, I considered posting an ad in Craigslist looking for a roommate that loves escargot and high-humidity situations and having the lucky winner pay me $350 a month plus cable to live in the fish tank. It seemed completely legit, until I realized that if we were to have a tenant said tenant would probably demand my side of the garage, which is a major deal-breaker in February!
On Day 3, our ancient Jack Russell Terrier, Rizzo, was whining and sniffing around the far corner of the living room-- pawing at it, even. I panicked and nearly lost the amazing game of Bejeweled that I was playing instead of making supper for the family! After I finally died in Bejeweled I decided to get a bag to cover my hand and go get the dead turtle from where our dog was obsessively staring.
I shoo'd the dog away and moved the dump truck that was protecting the carcass from our dog's snapping chops. Sure enough, Jelly had skedaddled his way from the far corner of Kiddo #1's room to the far corner of our living room I was actually amazed in a "Honey I Shrunk The Kids" sort of way. But now I was grossed out at the though of having to deal with my daughter's dead turtle. I put my hand in the plastic bag I brought with me, and I gingerly poked the shell. And the damned turtle was ALIVE!
I screamed like I was watching "Polar Express" (or some other very scary movie like that one)! I picked up Jelly and walked him quickly to the tank. I plunked him into the water and watched him sink to the bottom. I watched some air bubbled leave his mouth. And then I saw him start swimming around-- I've never been so happy-- it was like the end of that movie, "Polar Express" where the kid that looks like Dewey from "Malcom in the Middle" gets his damn present.
I'd wager that Jelly did some serious praying to get back home alive, because seconds after I put him back in the tank, 6 of our 7 snails died. Or maybe they just sacrificed themselves to Jelly as a welcome-back present. Either way, I gulped back my "WTF Snails! Jelly eats the 19 cent FEEDER FISH! GAH!" and said instead, "Welcome home, Jelly."
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| Damn it, Chloe! Patch me through to Jelly, NOW! |
After his first 24 hours out of the tank, I had a red clock like the one from 24 running in my head.
Boop-Beep-Boop-Beep.
After Day 2, I considered posting an ad in Craigslist looking for a roommate that loves escargot and high-humidity situations and having the lucky winner pay me $350 a month plus cable to live in the fish tank. It seemed completely legit, until I realized that if we were to have a tenant said tenant would probably demand my side of the garage, which is a major deal-breaker in February!
On Day 3, our ancient Jack Russell Terrier, Rizzo, was whining and sniffing around the far corner of the living room-- pawing at it, even. I panicked and nearly lost the amazing game of Bejeweled that I was playing instead of making supper for the family! After I finally died in Bejeweled I decided to get a bag to cover my hand and go get the dead turtle from where our dog was obsessively staring.
I shoo'd the dog away and moved the dump truck that was protecting the carcass from our dog's snapping chops. Sure enough, Jelly had skedaddled his way from the far corner of Kiddo #1's room to the far corner of our living room I was actually amazed in a "Honey I Shrunk The Kids" sort of way. But now I was grossed out at the though of having to deal with my daughter's dead turtle. I put my hand in the plastic bag I brought with me, and I gingerly poked the shell. And the damned turtle was ALIVE!
I screamed like I was watching "Polar Express" (or some other very scary movie like that one)! I picked up Jelly and walked him quickly to the tank. I plunked him into the water and watched him sink to the bottom. I watched some air bubbled leave his mouth. And then I saw him start swimming around-- I've never been so happy-- it was like the end of that movie, "Polar Express" where the kid that looks like Dewey from "Malcom in the Middle" gets his damn present.
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| "Dear Lord, if you let me make it back to the tank, I promise I won't eat the escargot again. Ever. Like, seriously, ever. Unless they spontaneously die, and then I might as well eat them anyway, right?" |
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