Spike. The suicidal beta fish.

At 7am this morning my sister burst into my room and said very loudly "Did the fish die?!"

I know what you're thinking, I too have heard that question asked one too many times. At 7am. While half asleep.

Then she told me he wasn't in his bowl, and that she even looked through the rocks at the bottom and couldn't find him. Rylee's fish Spike had vanished. Poof.

This was enough mystery to scrape me out of bed, so I joined her in the kitchen getting a spoon to look through the rocks once again, just to double check. A couple days before my sister told me he was digging through the rocks trying to bury himself, so I really thought he'd be down there, somewhere, but nope.

And then our conversation went something like this:

Jaffy: "Someone stole our fish!"

Jamie: "No one stole our fish."

Jaffy: "Someone STOLE our FISH!"

Jamie: "How could someone have stolen our fish, why would anyone steal our fish?"

Jaffy: "Well then where is he?"

"He's right THERE!" Suddenly I saw him laying just a few inches from my sisters feet. A helpless, shriveled, and most certainly dead, Spike.

We're not sure, but we think he jumped out of his bowl, flopped his way off our table, and then flopped away a few more feet. I think his first attempt at ending his life was trying to use the weight of the rocks to crush his body, but when that didn't work, he got desperate. How else do you explain it?

The worst part about this was that Spike was our replacement fish for Goldie, Rylee's first beloved beta. When we told her she had died, Rylee was more than a little upset. She sobbed, and sobbed, wanted to keep Goldie in a box in her room and after we told her no, we can't keep a dead fish in your room, she wanted a picture of them together and then a funeral. We buried Goldie in a box with a special note from Rylee and then put a pretty rock on top. On Christmas eve I caught her leaving presents on her grave site. So much love for one little fish.

Rylee's reaction was better this time, but there were still some crocodile tears to be shed. We tossed around the idea for a few other pets she could have, until finally we came up with the best idea for a pet EVER. A pet rock. They don't die! She loved the idea.

So Rylee and I found some rocks in the yard and painted them. Meet our new rock family.


How freggin cute are they? She put them in a "cage" with grass and a stick and kitty treats. Soon we'll teach them some tricks. You'll see.

So, trying to steal my boyfriend are you? We'll see.

There's this girl. She wants my boyfriend. She's actually been trying for a while now, and so far I've been able to keep quiet; until now.

I'm telling you, she just won't give up.

She's short and has curly-ish hair, and I guess some people would consider her "cute" but, she's got the maturity level of a 6yr old.

She seems to think that if she tries long enough, she'll be able to persuade him, but sorry sweetie, THAT BOY IS MINE.

Want to see a her?

Here she is.

Okay fine, so maybe she's not just cute but adorable, whatever.

When Rylee first met Pete, the words out of her mouth were "Wow, I didn't know your voice was like that" and there suddenly was a sparkle in her eye and she was hooked.

All I ever hear from her is "When's Pete coming over? Where's Pete? Are you going to Pete's house?....can I come?"

She walks in my room and yells "It smells like Pete in here!"

Any time he comes over she screams PEEEEEEEETE and body slams him in one massive hug. Most of the time it takes myself and my sister to remove her. She sits on his lap when he snoods, looks up with loving eyes and says "Pee Pee (that's her pet name for him) you're my buddy, you smell like the mall".

Today she asked me "Is Pete your boyfriend?" and I told her yes, yes he was, and didn't she know that? And she says? "Oh, well guess what? He's MY boyfriend too".

Looks like I've got a little competition...

It's called "character" okay?

When I was little (I don't know if it was because my parents didn't want to spent the money, or because they just preferred it this way), we would cut down a tree for Christmas. I remember doing this, but only a couple of years, I think maybe because some years my Dad did it alone. I liked it actually. My Dad and I would jump in the canoe (we live on a marsh) and island hop until we found a suitable tree to hack down and take home. It wasn't until I was older that I realized, looking back at old pictures, that we had some funky ass trees.

Our trees were lopsided, they were dinky, and saggy, and old, but? I loved them.

This year I'm getting flash backs to those days because our tree this year? Let's just say Charlie Brown's tree got NOTHIN on us. We have our actual tree at my mom's and so my sister and I debated for a while on whether or not we should spend the 40 bucks and get our own. I guess we took too long to make a decision because when I came home today, there was a tiny "tree" on our steps. Our "tree" is actually a few branches off a cedar tree on our island my mom cut down and planted for us. But I say? It's perfect. I took a picture of it and sent it to my boyfriend who said it was, wait for it...wait for it...ghetto. Thanks. But we don't listen to him because he's actually a big terd that's disguised in human skin and a backwards hat.

Internet, meet our tree. Our non-ghetto, fabulous tree.

See? Cute.

So there.

Okay so it's actually a little ridiculous, but it makes me laugh and reminds me of being little and I like it, so it stays.

Notice the present under there? My niece went shopping in her room and filled that bag with some of her toys and nail stuff (I told her she could get me something for my nails as a present a couple of days ago). She pranced around so excited for about ten minutes singing "It's something that you waaaanted!"

She can stay too.