You know how excited I was about the fish yesterday? Like I was taking pictures and posting it and I even made a video?
Well I nearly had a heart attack last night.
We hear a loud splash as Spencer and I lie in bed reading books and writing in journals. I look at him and think it’s a burglar with a water gun… the diamond goby has turned into a shark… oh my gosh the fish has jumped out of the tank!
“I’m not going in there,” I say, scared to see a flapping animal on the floor. “This is your tank”
He runs in. It’s silent.
“WHAT’S GOING ON?”
“I… I don’t…”
“ARE ALL OF THE FISH INSIDE THE TANK?”
“I don’t see any of them right now…”
“YOU MEAN NONE OF THE FISH ARE IN THE TANK?”
“Wait, there’s Gizmo. There’s the clown fish.”
“WHERE’S THE GOBY?”
“I DON’T KNOW, ANNE, MAYBE YOU SHOULD COME AND HELP ME FIND HIM!”
I look at my bare feet and cringe. I tip toe into the living room and start looking in the tank.
“There he is,” I say. But he’s not in the tank. He is in the second compartment of the overflow box.
Spencer gets a glimpse right before the diamond goby, like a freaking orca, jumps six inches out of the water, flapping his fins and spraying and flicking salt water into our eyes as he falls back into the overflow box.
I scream a good one and run into the bathroom. “I can’t watch! You get him out of there!”
Spencer opens the cupboards under the fish tank and plays with a few things. I hear a suction.
“Are you taking out the water in the overflow box? He’s IN the overflow box, you know!”
He doesn’t answer.
“SPENCER THAT FISH BETTER BE BREATHING IN WATER.”
It’s silent for a moment. I’m hyperventilating.
“Okay, he’s in the sump now.”
“Did he have to go down that long tube?”
“Yeah. He’s really scared.”
“Are you gonna get him out?”
“Yeah, but he’s pretty scared, he needs to calm down first.”
I take this time for the fish to calm down for me to calm down too. “Can we pray?”
“Will that make you feel better?”
“Okay you say it.”
I fold my arms and say a few sentences like, God, I know this is a bit silly, but it’s probably not that silly to you since you created the fish and I just would like to ask that the fish won’t be scared and the fish will be okay and the fish will be happy and help us to know what to do to help the fish be happy and… please don’t let him die and please help him to not be hurt. Amen.
“Amen.” Spencer says.
I feel a little bit more calm. But I leave the room when Spencer takes the fish out.
“OH my gosh!” I hear. Then a lot of moving around and then, plop. The fish is back in the tank.
I run in. “What happened?”
“He got salt water in my eye. He got salt water in my eye. Ouch. Ouch.”
The diamond goby is back under a rock where he has dug under the sand and has made a tunnel. He’s breathing hard. I’m breathing hard. Spencer’s breathing hard.
We sit on the couch with a box of mints and chow down, staring at the fish tank. We don’t go to sleep for a few hours. Not until we see that the diamond goby is breathing normally and swimming around the tank again.
We get online and figure out a few things that will help–one, we don’t have a night light, which could have freaked him out. So we left a small life on. Two, diamond gobies are jumpers. So we’ll need to make a cover asap.
We’re a bit tired this evening.