So admittedly, I’ve been doing very little cooking in recent weeks, this last week in particular. I feel like I’m just now getting my bearings in this new kitchen. I’ve been busy finding a place for everything, trying to figure out what’s going to work, what’s not, what I need and what I don’t, what can be donated, thrown away or put into storage to be dug out as needed all while wondering where the hell all this crap came from in the first place.

This would be why I haven’t been writing much about new recipes or foods I’m trying lately – there are no new recipes or foods to speak of. I beg for forgiveness as I veer wildly off course for a short while here.

Ready to veer?

While packing and unpacking, Zak uncovered the fish bowl – the same fish bowl we used to house our monarch caterpillar this summer actually. Thinking back on how that ended and the fate of our poor little caterpillar, we probably should have seen this coming.

Take note, this is a bit of very obvious foreshadowing.

At one point after Christmas, a conversation went down between Zak and the girls that ended with the promise of some fish to fill the aforementioned fish bowl. I absolutely would have vetoed this decision had I been there to cast my vote. In my mind fish = a dirty fish bowl = one more thing I have to clean. The only way he got me to agree to fish before they walked out the door to the pet store was by signing an affidavit stating that I would never have to clean a fish bowl and that he and the girls would take care of everything.

Fine. Sign here and then you can go get your fish.

Did you know that at Petco fish come with a 15 day warranty? True story. Just bring back your dead fish and a sample of the water and they’ll scoop another one out of the tank for you, no questions asked.

(More foreshadowing.)

So on Sunday they got fish. Two fish to be exact, one for each of them. And then on Monday morning when I was on the phone with the phone company trying to figure out why our internet is still not working (this post would be brought to you by some neighbor we’ve yet to meet named “Ruth” who very fortunately has her wireless network wide open. Thank you Ruth for unknowingly keeping me sane until the phone company gets their act in gear) and at that exact same time as luck with have it (or unlucky, if you are a fish) Zak was on a work call – therefore leaving the girls relatively unattended with new fish and a brand new container of fish food.

Do you see where this is going? Let’s just say that on Tuesday, Goldie wasn’t looking too hot. She was spending an awful lot of time at the top of the fish bowl last night. I think we better just jump right to the punch here and reveal what we woke up to first thing this morning, shall we?

As Maxine pointed out in the video, we don’t have nets. So I went down to the kitchen to scrounge around and came back upstairs with the best thing I could to find to scoop out our poor little fish.

A 1/3 c measure.

Ava showed Maxine and suddenly it started to sink in.

Uh oh.

Oh no.

Oh no oh no oh no no no no no put the camera down you stupid woman and comfort your child!

What to do? What to do?? Wait! I know!

Who wants left over chocolate cheese cake for breakfast?!

OK – let’s not go there. Cheesecake for comfort! Are you sad? Here! Feel better! Eat something sweet!

Why is that the first thing that comes to mind? Although come to think of it, how many times did I whip out my boob to nurse this child when she was sad or hurt or frustrated or bored? Is it any wonder we use food to make ourselves feel better? It’s practically built in and ingrained into us from Day 1!

Comfort food musings aside, after putting the camera down and saying good bye, we skipped the visit to the fridge and headed for the couch instead to spend 20 minutes crying about fish and talking about what we believe happens after someone dies. These things happen. It’s OK to be sad and mourn the loss of our little friend. He was a good fish and he was probably sick before he even came home to us (back peddle! back peddle! I didn’t expect her to be so sad! Quick QUICK turn this ship around QUICK!) and he’s not sick or suffering anymore.

Why don’t these kids come with a manual? Did yours come with a manual? Check the index for me, is there a section on Dead Fish?

A few more tears and lots of hugs instead of rich desserts, I think we’ve all recovered from our fishy incident that greeted us with the rising sun this morning.

And no, we are not going to take Petco up on their offer for a replacement fish. Obviously. Goldie is in a better place now and therefore long gone. Instead we’ll allow what’s left of the fish food to last 50% longer than it would have otherwise.

Now… who wants cheesecake for dinner?

• One Armed Carrot Jokes
• Can't You Read the Signs?
• Whensday?

It’s been one of those days.

What exactly does that sign mean you ask? No yelling.

Now don’t get me wrong, I try not to yell. But you might say that I’ve been known to raise my voice. Sometimes I yell more than or louder than I’d like to admit. But I promise that I DO TRY not to yell. Some days I’m more successful than others.

Today when I scolded Ava because she purposefully hit Maxine in the head with a hair brush, she ran off upstairs in tears and got to work on some signs while I got to work on lunch. She came back down a short while later and we both apologized for our less than stellar behavior. Then she got to work merrily hanging up her signs up all over the house. The living room, the kitchen, the dining room. I see a couple upstairs now too.

I enjoyed signs while I ate my homemade garlic hummus smeared on toasted sesame Ezekiel bread topped with salsa.

And another with my spinach banana smoothie.

I asked her, “What does ‘Dai Oim’ mean? Does that mean ‘DIE MOM’?!”

Fortunately, no, that’s not what it means. It just says “Please don’t yell at me.”

I also asked if she made any signs for herself, because she yells too. (Funny how they not only pick up on your good habits, but they pick up on ALL your habits.) She replied that no, it was my job to make those signs for her.

Alrighty then.

Kidding. Kidding! I said I was kidding!

This is either going to save us both years of therapy or we’ll be declaring bankruptcy due to outrageous mental hospital bills.

But onto the splash park!

Want to play Where’s Waldo Ava? (Her suit is blue and green!)

Apparently everybody and their mother had the same idea we did today. We didn’t stay long.

Afternoon snack unintentionally turned into an early dinner.

Fruit.

Fruit.

And oh yeah, more fruit.

I think “Turkish Apricots” is latin for “These are kind of brown but don’t be alarmed they still taste the same.”

Some corn on the cob a little later too.

In other news, our monarch caterpillar survived the night!

And much like a breastfed baby, we know he’s getting enough to eat because he’s pooping. A lot.

I’ll leave you tonight with this important message:

Dai Oim.

• True or False
• Sweet Tooth Fairy
• Like a School Girl