A Brothel Death

My husband has a fish hobby that borders on that fine line between hobby and obsession.

We first started with a 180 gallon fish tank in our room(as to not be seen by our tenants).

That is a LARGE fish tank. We are talking 6 feet long.

Then he added several other small tanks.

His hobby/obsession came to a whole new level when he brought in a giant tank that was just for breeding fish.

(don't worry this all comes together to relate to property management so hang on)

When he brought in this breeding tank I started referring to it as the fish brothel.

Now I told you that to tell you this.

Last night at 3:30am my son came into bed with us which is a major no no with my husband.

Which is kind of ironic because my husband loves fish and my children sleep like fish out of water.

You know limbs flying around every few seconds.

So I am taking my son back to his bedroom when I hear this major commotion going on in the giant tank.

I don't pay to much attention because I am half awake and my sleeping son is in my arms.

When I come back to bed I hear some flopping going on.

I smack my husband a little harder then I wanted to and told him that I think a fish escaped.

He jumped out of bed like I told him the house was on fire and went to the aid of his fish.

He flipped on ALL the bedroom lights and practically dove into the tank.

As he was practically inside the bottom of the tank trying to rescue his fish he was using his cell phone voice(which is about 10 octaves higher than a normal persons voice) calling to the fish as if it would actually respond.

At his point all my children are up.

And I mean UP like laughing and talking and running around the room.

My husband finally rescues his fish and dumps it into the tank.

Then we both try to get the kids down to bed.

They are screaming and calling for me.

My husband and I take turns going in and putting them back in their beds.

I finally succumb to sitting by their bed and waiting for them to fall asleep.

FINALLY they fall asleep almost an hour later.

Phew.

I creep back in bed.

My head hits the pillow and...

RING RING RING RING

It's my office phone.

It's now 4:30 am

I run out to the phone so it would not wake up the children.

I answer it

"HELLO!?"

(you know the hello that says someone better be dying)

"Um yes I was wondering how much your two bedrooms are?"

My usual sarcasm escapes me and I just hang up and turn around to find my son standing there asking for breakfast.

Honestly?

Who calls (mind you it was a local phone number) at 4:30 to ask about apartments.

I have the number saved and I plan on returning her call very early tomorrow morning.

And on a sad side note.

The fish sadly did not make it.

He died a courageous death.

For I believe he had heard about the fish brothel and was making a run for it.

Funeral services were held this morning in the master bathroom.

And an additional service will be held later today when the plumber comes to snake our drain because you should NOT flush a 10 inch fish down the toilet