Xtreme sports presents - Fish diving

Dean here.

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So, ever since my birthday last week I've had to acknowledge that 27 is the age that senility begins to set..........................................oh yeah, in.

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I had another experience yesterday that made me quote one of my favorite shows, 'D'oh'.

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While mopping the floor cleaning up the ash from my last great mistake we were cooking a pizza in the oven, thank you Papa Murphy's. So, being the caring diligent husband I grab a couple of plates to get chelle started on some cheesy bread while the pizza is cooking. I wish I'd used paper plates is all I can say. Apparently hand-eye-coordination also goes down hill at 27. As I'm turning to put the plate on the counter I smash it through our fish's, Optimus Prime, bowl. Not just a tap mind you, I took a chunk out of the bowl.
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Suddenly half a gallon (it wasn't a full gallon because I'd just used half a gallon of his water to water my tomato plant) of fish water is gushing off the counter onto the freshly mopped floor, taking our fish on a ride the equivalent of going over Niagara Falls in a barrel, sans barrel.

*not actually Optimus Prime, but he looks the same. But if our fish dies don't try to replace him honey, I'll know.

So after he spends a couple seconds skimming through the sheet of water on the floor I'm able to get him into a glass filled with good water (the last Betta we had here in Iowa survived a week before the crud in the water killed him). Now a pint glass on our desk is his temporary home until a new home is found. But, at least he's still alive and he looks happy.

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And on the plus side, we now don't have to clean underneath our oven or our fridge when we move.