There are these fish that swim around on my computer’s desktop all day. If you click on the box, it feeds them. Just a couple clicks and they chase the little yellow dots of “food” and eat them. Well, now every time I open my browser, I have to feed them. I have to or they’ll die.
I spend anxious mornings worried that they’re swimming around their virtual tank searching desperately for their food bits before I return to work each day. It’s ridiculous, sure, but…hey, shut up.
I was gone from work and that computer during Christmas break. When I got back I was almost panicked with worry for them. These computer fish swimming around missing their food, shriveling up, starving, blaming me, cursing my name in tiny animated bubbles. “You killed us, Mollllllllll…glug.”
They were fine. I mean, of course, they were. They’re digital cartoons. Still, it was worrying.
I may be over-sensitive considering that I almost poisoned my cat this weekend from an overdose of de-wormer, I don’t have a whole lot of confidence in my mothering skills.
Yet, like a true Christmas miracle, the fish survived.
And, oh, the worms are gone.
I write awkward tales. Mostly funny. Usually true. Often truthfully funny.