Enough with the five-gallon tanks. Bah! Ten gallons or 20 gallons or nothing! Yeah. (Secretly I want a 55-gallon tank for living room.) (Or 100 gallons.) We set up another little five-gallon tank. Vixen has a 150-gallon salt water tank. (Cute pix right here.) I am dying of envy over here. I do not know that I am Woman Enough for 150-gallon tank. Also, we have no space. I don’t want them in our cold, drafty, unfinished basement, I want them where I can see them fifty times a day. Aquariums really are soothing (says the stress case who is finally relaxing. Thanks, little fish!).

Hmm. Maybe the kids could share a room? I digress. We got a new snail for the one tank (the other one starved to death. Bad on us. They are vegetarians and enjoy lettuce, cuke slices, and the occasional green bean. Our tank was too clean for him. We loved you, Scarfy.) New tiny tank is now home to two somewhat psychotic guppies, a big snail in a yellow shell and the cutest little wee dwarf frog you ever saw in your life.

“They are one hundred percent underwater!” my son told his dad. (After his dad said, “A frog?”)

He’s got the funniest damn personality. The frog. (But Steve does, too. Heh heh heh.) One of the guppies dive-bombed him, to grab a frog pellet (good luck getting food, frog — I’ll keep trying). He kicked the guppy right in the head with his bitsy-witsy little frog leggie. I don’t think I can adequately describe how teeny he is. Look at your thumbnail. About that big.

Oh. My God. He is allegedly full-grown. All I can think of is that crazy frog from the cartoons because for real — that’s who he reminds me of. Exactly.

“Hello my baby, hello my honey…” Michigan J. Frog!