8.8 on the Richter scale

I had a really nice evening last night. It was my Bunco night. A chance to spend time with friends catching up on what's happening in their lives, a chance to vent about things that only women can truly understand.

Then I got home....

The house was quiet, the kiddos were in bed, all was well. Or so I thought....

In the kitchen was some evidence that something had gone wrong...

So, Lance proceeds to tell me about the loud crash he heard upstairs while he was in the bathroom. He hears the crash and then L yelling, "Momma". When he finally makes it upstairs, he sees the remnants of the earthquake in L's room. Seems, big brother and her were having fun, running, and getting a wee bit crazy. And the victim of all this craziness?!?

You guessed it! Our new family member, Fountain, was expelled from his home and was lying on the carpet. Lance asked the kiddos if he was still alive and so N poked him and determined he was still living. Lance was very honest with them and mentioned that Fountain may not survive the natural disaster. That's when sweet L asks the all important question, "Can we take Fountain back to the store and get another fish?" Can we say NOT emotionally attached to this fish at all?!? She's a smart gal and realizes he may be "damaged" goods---she wants something that is whole. Wow, I hope I never get hurt...she may try to trade me in too!

As of this morning, Fountain is still alive, although the drama of being displaced may take days off his life. We're still trying to determine if a 3 y.o.'s room is really the best place for a fish to live anyway. Perhaps our room or the top of the kitchen cabinets would be safer.

Lance said it took most of the evening to clean up all the rocks, etc from the fish tank. Oh, and the water? Yeah, L was being a "kitty cat" and licking it off the carpet. Gag, oh gag. Fish poop and stinky water---yum, yum.

Good times, indeed.