I’m tired.  Oh so tired.   I didn’t sleep much last night.  Because I was driving.  And drinking coffee.  And eating M&Ms.  Eating M&Ms for 18 minutes straight is not good for you.  Even if they are peanut M&Ms, and therefore a tasty source of protein, as well as all those lovely antioxidants, and therefore a perfectly nutritious food whose calories shouldn’t even count.

I was driving 50 miles per hour (that’s rather slow for our Canadian friends) down the highway.  For an hour and a half.  Behind this:

That is my father-in-law’s MGA.  It is a tiny British car.  When he and mother-in-law got divorced 6 years ago, somehow that car ended up in the barn at my parent’s house.  Long story.  We spent many hours and much gas money getting that car to our house last night, so that aunt- and uncle-in-law can drive 45 mph (they are probably more law abiding than we are) all the way to the east coast, to finally deliver the car back into father-in-law’s hands. 

Which means today I’m exhausted. 

But promises were made, and at long last, after much begging, research, and preparation, today I got pets for the kids.  Six Black Widow Tetras:

They are a hiding because they are scared of the crazy lady who takes several tries to turn off the flash.  The kids are thrilled.  I, however, am peeved.  These are not the fish I walked into the store to buy.  Three books and a long discussion with the guy at the pricey aquarium store (where, ok, Boy-o tried to climb into the clam tank and threw his shoe at the clownfish, so I perhaps was not paying as much attention to the oblivious fish-loving frat boy as I could have been) had me convinced that we should start our tank with either neon tetras or glowlight tetras.

Walking into the big box pet store (where they have a 14 day return policy on dead fish), I felt confident and well informed. However, the fishmonger, staring at me over her wire rimmed glasses, loudly informed me and my children that No! That’s Crazy! Are we trying to kill her beloved finned friends? She marched us to the wall o’ fish and pointed at two tanks. “You can pick these or these.”

Like a rube I bought the first ones she pointed at. I was a sheeple, cowed by some scaly old woman in a blue vest. The Black Widow Tetras are ok, but they are twice as big as what we wanted, and certainly not as pretty to look at.

But to hear Boy-o crow “Ishies!! Ishies!!” to The Producer as he walks in the door after work?  Yeah, it was worth it.