No, this is not a post about Abe Vigoda, although his name has been invoked on this site from time to time. Yesterday Samson and Jane got a pet fish. When Vicki asked the kids what they wanted to name it, Samson answered before she'd even finished asking the question: SAMUEL.
Perfect. So Samuel the Beta fish (or the Sammyfish as Jane calls him) is now swimming in a little square bowl on the sideboard in our dining room. As far as pets go, this one promises to be a lot less work than our late, er Santa-visiting, cat.
Although it's not as easy to play with him as it was with Ishmael. And, while it seems unfair to compare our new pet to our old one, Ishmael was way better at laying on the couch with me while I read the paper. Samuel's sort of floppy and frantic in that kind of annoying pay-attention-to-me-I'm-rapidly-losing-oxygen kind of way.
I guess it will just take us a little time to get used to each other.
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About Me
- dada
- Call me dada. This has, in the few months since my son started "talking," become my name. I'm sure (at least I hope) it will eventually morph into something less early 20th century art movementy --- but I am marked forever as dada. And this is a good thing. I have no real advice to offer, other than always carry Cheerios and extra onesies, and I don't really have a lot of 'wacky' adventures to regale you with. Truth be told, this is as much for me as it is for you. So, uh, thanks for stopping by. I hope it's at least an interesting time-killer. And if not, consider this an ironic exercise in skewering the bourgeouis notions of 21st century American parenthood by deconstructing the materialist ethos that has turned childhood into a demographic and rendered adults simultaneous enablers and slaves. Or something.
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