Shark bait, ooh ha ha.

 A couple of years ago my husband had this grand dream of getting an aquarium. Long story short, we got an aquarium. It was WAY harder to get started than we could have imagined and more than a few fish sacrificed their lives in our learning adventure. BUT after hundreds of water testing strips and filters and plants we finally struck a happy balance of fish and PH and got it chemically correct and grammatically correct and had a healthy tank. 

 

So imagine for me, if you will, the constant pleasing, almost unnoticeable sound of the water running, the nice hue of light emanating from the tank, and the subtle movement of life continuously playing in the backgorund. Imagine your fish steadily growing- larger than you would have thought and the surprising fact that you really enjoy watching them. 

On nights that Theodore's nurse isn't here and we find ourselves sleeping downstairs to accommodate him it's like a pleasant white noise as you sleep. The couch lies perpendicular to the tank so your head is usually towards it. It's soothing as it helps eliminate the creakings of our house's old bones from dogs and cats movements across the wooden floors. 

AND THEN IMAGINE CHAOS. 

Splashing! Pounding! Water everywhere! Ok, I might be acting a little dramatic here but only a little. 

A fish jumped out of the tank, people. It jumped into the glass top flap that opens to feed them, pushed it open, and jumped out! Of course, then it fell 5 feet to the hard wooden floor, narrowly missing the trash can, and I'm sure instantly regretted it's decision. 

It was our largest fish- a 10-11" bala shark. It prowls around the tank impressively shimmering as the light reflects off its scales. Every once in a while we hear a splash of him breaching the water line and then diving down deep to the white stoney bottom. Never in my life did I think he would attempt a kamikaze escape right next to my head in the middle of the night. 

How close this thing was to hitting me in the face whilst I slept was less than a fish length. I may have died if that had happened. Died. I'm not even kidding.

Thankfully, no one is worse for the wear.  We (and by "we" I mean my son whom I ran and screamed after to come get this thing!) scooped him up and put him back in the tank and then promptly sealed it with a heavy peanut butter jar so he can't escape again. Hopefully.  

Side note: I never thought I was such a girl. I mean, honestly. It's just a fish. But ew.