Dogs & Fish & Panic Attacks

My Uncle Joe tells me often that he’s going to hire a TV crew to follow me and Kelly around, because he would pee himself laughing at our mini “adventures”. Well, today is a day I’m sure he’s sad he missed.

We left work early today to run a ton of errands. The first three errands went off without a hitch, so we went to our final errand – PetCo. We needed cat litter and a new home for Liam and Seamus (our new Betta fish), so while Kelly was paying, I went out to pull the car up to the doors.

I get to the car at the same time as the guy who owned the car next to me, and we get to talking about the dog in his back seat (and by “got to talking” I mean I made a passive aggressive comment about him leaving his dog in the back seat and he wound up being really nice about it), and he asks me if I want to meet Willie. (Um, duh! Yeah!) Then his wife comes out and she’s equally as sweet and they  tell me how Willie’s original name was Ashton but “fuck no” they weren’t naming their dog after Ashton Kutcher!

Meanwhile, Kelly comes out lugging our heavy purchases all the way to the truck since I haven’t even gotten in, let alone pulled it up to the doors, and she’s loading them into the back of my truck and I am watching Willie do tricks for treats when suddenly, half of my back window FALLS OFF MY TRUCK. The glass is all in tact but the passenger side clasp is totally rusted through and that side of the glass just FALLS OUT. The nice wife calls out her nice husband to help and we shove the window back up, make sure it’s latched at the bottom (nice man scolds Kelly about her suggestion to use an epoxy on glass and demands I go to a junk yard and do NOT take it to a dealership), say goodbye to Willie (who, by the way, barks at black people even though nice wife “tries not to see color”), and we head home.

The entire ride home (I took 60th, how dumb), I am 100% positive every bump (and there are a LOT on 60th) is going to make me lose my back windshield entirely and it’s going to shatter on the street and then I’ll need an entire new windshield instead of just a clasp. But, thankfully, we get home in one piece – us and my truck, and set up Liam and Seamus’s beautiful new home,. They’re both male Betta fish, so they have to be separated and we bought a really nice little tank that has a separator in the middle. Liam’s side has a lovely purple tree and Seamus’s has extra green gems… and then we begin the process of scooping them from their current (tiny) tank into their new one.

I reach my little net into their existing tank, scoop Liam up, and he JUMPS OUT OF THE NET and onto the cutting board where we’re making the transfer. I remain incredibly calm (oh, sarcasm) and begin SCREAMING, “HE’S OUT HE’S OUT HE’S OUT!”. Kelly leaps back about three full feet and yells, “WHAT?!”. I say (scream), “HE’S OUT GET HIM HELP OH MY GOD HE’S GONNA DIE!”. Kelly refuses to even CONSIDER touching him and starts nudging at him with the plastic lid of the old tank, trying to roll him into the tiny net.  Meanwhile, Liam is flopping all over this cutting board, slowly suffocating. I continue to scream things about not squishing him and oh, just touch him, but I can see now that Kelly will absolutely not be able to help… so I up their now-filled and very heavy tank like a mom lifting a car off of her child and scream, “JUST PUSH HIM IN, I DON’T CARE WHAT SIDE JUST PUSH HIM!”. Thankfully, a nudge or two and he leaps into the tank and lands on his own side. With shaking hands, I set the tank back on the counter and basically take deep breaths and try not to barf as Kelly swiftly transfers Seamus into his side, without any issues.

I’m thinking of starting a KickStarter campaign to get enough funds to hire that camera crew my Uncle Joe suggested. If Marriage Bootcamp and Duck Dynasty and Braxton Family Values are a thing, Kelly and I could DEFINITELY get a TV show. 

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