We Are A Grandmother

7 Feb

Margaret Thatcher famously used the Royal ‘we’ when son Mark’s wife gave birth.

my male albino kribensis

my male albino kribensis (Photo credit: sshingler)

We are a grandmother of a different sort; and I accidentally killed the little blighters.  About forty of them.

The Hub’s Kribensis gave birth.  An Albino Kribensis at that.  The Hub likes Kribensis because they care for their young instead of giving them a twelve-hour head start and then eating them.  He bought a special spawning net for a nursery, because the other fish don’t respect babydom when there’s the chance of a good meal.  The net floats near the top and is attached to the glass by suction pads.  The Hub is soppy over his fish.

When I put on the tank light the other morning, two of the Siamese Fighters appeared to be trapped between the tank wall and the net.  Fish need to keep swimming to breathe, something to do with the movement and the water creating their oxygen.  Here endeth the science lesson.

I pulled the net away and prodded the Fighters to make sure they were still alive. They swam away in a huff.   The Hub told me later that they don’t need to move as much as most fish and like to snuggle in that space from time to time.

I was rather pleased with my act of charity.  The net frame had come away from the suction pads but it still floated so I didn’t wake the Hub to fix it.

The Hub came downstairs a little later and did his usual fussing over the tanks, talking the baby talk he reserves for his millions of little fishies in his five – yes, five – tanks.  He got to the big tank last and exploded with angst-ridden rage: in the

My siamese fighter.

My siamese fighter. (Photo credit: LHG Creative Photography)

nursery net he found a bloated Siamese Fighter, licking its lips and smiling smugly.

I don’t know why it was so smug – it missed the two baby Kribensis hiding in the corner.

It transpired that the nursery net had somehow come away from the suction pads and sunk just enough for the Siamese Fighter to jump in and participate in some fine dining.

I confess, I blanched.  I considered packing my handkerchief and stick and running away to the circus.  All that stopped me is that I don’t have a handkerchief big enough for my Malteser stash.

I blanched again.  I confessed.  I told my sorry story of mistaken heroics to the Hub, and he forgave me.  He’s like that.  It’s so annoying.

Several days later, I decided it was time to put the kitchen voile back up on the window.  I took it down for the Christmas lights and, once washed, stuck it in the ironing cupboard.  

The ironing cupboard holds the iron (three of them, for no reason that I can fathom; I’ve no idea where the other two came from), several tons of clean washing (always, no matter how much ironing I do which, okay, isn’t a lot, but even so…), bits of material that we kept from the many, many costumes our kids have worn on school activity days (Obi-Wan Kanobe?  Here’s an old brown blanket and a bit of Hub wizardry.  Punk rocker?  Let us just zip one up), sundry items like the sewing kit (never sewed anything), silver polish (never polished anything) and kitchen roll (never rolled around the kitc…oh, wait…blush).

I picked up the voile; it was rather small.  There was another piece, also rather small.  I put the two pieces together – talking of pieces, in church on Sunday, our vicar got the biggest laugh of the morning when the congregation read on the overhead projector, The piece of the Lord be always with you.  We wondered which piece it was – I put the two pieces together and there was a huge hole in the centre.

I’d no idea what had happened but I knew who to blame.  I didn’t want to rollick him when he had just woken up so I left a heart-shaped note and a snippet of voile stuck to the Hub’s mug when I took him his coffee.  It read: I love you but you are in BIG trouble.

He was pretty sheepish when he came downstairs because he realised what he’d done.  His explanation was that, when the Kribensis gave birth, his little catching net broke, it was late at night, and he needed to repair it quickly so that the other fish wouldn’t eat the babies.  He went in the ironing cupboard, found what he thought was a bit of spare material (what?  From the time one of the boys played a bride?) and the rest is history…

I haven’t forgiven him yet.  He finds that so annoying.

 

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46 Responses to “We Are A Grandmother”

  1. McGuffyAnn February 7, 2013 at 16:27 #

    Bill used to breed and show (he has awards!) Tropical fish. We had 75 tanks at one time. We had a fish room for all of the tanks and equipment. Trust me…I feel your pain.

    Like

  2. mairedubhtx February 7, 2013 at 16:31 #

    I had never heard of those type of fish. My daughter had one of those fighting fish but it committed suicide by jumping out of its bowl onto the desk. She now has goldfish, or rather then granddaughters have goldfish which have managed to stay alive for quite a long time. They take good care of them, actually. And the chihuahua. And the two cats who have to live in the garage and outdoors because my son-in-law is allergic to them.

    Like

  3. Katharine Trauger February 7, 2013 at 16:35 #

    😳 😆

    Like

  4. slpmartin February 7, 2013 at 16:54 #

    My goodness..where does one put 75 tanks and where is your spirit of forgiveness? 😉

    Like

  5. vivinfrance February 7, 2013 at 17:07 #

    You are really rotten to Hub: he forgave you, why couldn’t you forgive him. I only gave you 1 star, to punish you. Give Hub a hug from me – bereft Grandfathers need hugging.

    Like

  6. siggiofmaine February 7, 2013 at 17:07 #

    L♥ve it !

    Like

  7. Elaine - I used to be indecisive February 7, 2013 at 17:27 #

    Poor hub. Lost his baby fish and now in the doghouse. ;(

    Like

  8. Pseu February 7, 2013 at 18:37 #

    Sounds a bit fishy to me.

    Like

    • Pseu February 7, 2013 at 18:38 #

      So now an excuse for new nets – for the kitchen window…. and then he can have the rest of the scarps for the tanks, next time there are grandfishes about?….

      Like

  9. laurieanichols February 7, 2013 at 19:15 #

    If the Hub is in the doghouse than he is the perfect place because I know how well loved your dogs are. My hubby had his love affair with Koi fish which became my fish and the baby girl accidentally killed the last two by superbly cleaning their fish tank, yes she killed them with cleanliness. We had had them for a decade and they were getting too big so I didn’t mind and the hubby had gotten bored with them. Bless the Hub’s heart for being the fish man, and a good one at that. 🙂

    Like

  10. faydanamyjake February 7, 2013 at 19:17 #

    Oh the guilt! 🙂

    Like

  11. Dana February 7, 2013 at 19:34 #

    Haha! I was falling asleep here in my lunch, but your story woke me right up! Unfortunately, I think my loud laugher also woke up my napping daughter. 😦

    Happy Thursday!

    Like

  12. Grannymar February 7, 2013 at 19:42 #

    Hubby deserves a Forgiveness Poem!
    Ulterior motive…. You might get some Maltesers!

    Like

  13. SchmidleysScribbling February 7, 2013 at 21:15 #

    Well at least the HUB likes (loves) fish. I had three tanks of exotic fish. The EX went fishing and caught a baby Blue Gill about 6 inches long. He brought the fish home and put it in my biggest tank. His ‘baby fish’ ate all my exotic fish. Now you know why he is an EX. Dianne

    Like

  14. kateshrewsday February 7, 2013 at 22:51 #

    Fish are a liability. They eat each other, for starters. it can be carnage. It’s a fish eat fish world in there.

    Nets: I haven’t thought about those for years. I feel a blog post on their history coming on…hope you get glorious new ones soon….

    Like

  15. benzeknees February 7, 2013 at 23:05 #

    Those fish seem to cause a lot of problems in your household! Is voile like sheer curtains?

    Like

  16. robincoyle February 8, 2013 at 01:03 #

    Remind me to not ask you to pet sit.

    Like

  17. adinparadise February 8, 2013 at 04:28 #

    Oh dear Tilly, this is so hilarious.I couldn’t stop laughing. I can just imagine all this happening. It would make a wonderful TV sitcom. I would be waiting in suspenders for each episode. “The piece of the Lord,” is hysterical. I don’t know how you managed to worship after that. 😆

    Like

  18. Amba February 8, 2013 at 06:08 #

    Oh my! As usual you had me in splits. Have you considered getting yourself a reality show? I’m sure you could give Honey Boo Boo a run for her money! When you’re a successful celebrity remember I gave you this idea first 🙂 LOL!

    Like

  19. Ron. February 8, 2013 at 11:00 #

    I had a beautiful black betta (ie Siamese) for almost 3 years. Died two days after I moved to Vermont. Thanks for reminding me. RIP, Sid.

    Like

  20. lanceleuven February 8, 2013 at 13:59 #

    “giving them a twelve-hour head start and then eating them.” – That’s my kind of parenting. 🙂

    Like

  21. Al February 8, 2013 at 20:48 #

    Forty fish versus one piece of fabric? But who’s counting? I know, now I’m being annoying.

    Like

  22. Three Well Beings February 9, 2013 at 08:55 #

    I’m glad you didn’t share photos of the carnage, but how about showing photos of the new fabric when you get it?

    Like

I welcome your comments but be warned: I'm menopausal and as likely to snarl as smile. Wine or Maltesers are an acceptable bribe; or a compliment about my youthful looks and cheery disposition will do in a pinch.

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