Day 1:  Our new pet was supposed to be either a cat or another hamster
 to replace the one that my wife swore wasn't released in the backyard on
 purpose...  But in any event, the pet store beckoned and our whole
 family trooped off.  The gods were smiling upon us when the children
 quickly decided that a goldfish would be an appropriate pet.  The pet
 store clerk loaded us up sith a small glass bowl, a lifetime supply of
 goldfish food and a tiny air pump which seemed to make horrible buzzing
 noises.  The kids named the goldfish "Gaston".
 
 Day 2:  Waiting patiently at the front door for the fish store to open
 the next day, I hoped that the kids would continue to believe that
 Gaston was merely "resting".  In the process of buying Gaston-2 the
 clerk allowed that the fish would probably be much happier in a larger
 aquarium.
 
 The kids missed the quick exchange of Gaston-1 for Gaston-2 in their
 excitement at participating in setting up the new tank.  This new tank
 had a heater, a power filter, and enough Day-Glo tasteless sculptures to
 outfit an entire Elvis museum.  Gaston-2 appreciated his new
 surroundings and half a container of fish food later, the kids were
 still amazed by how much one goldfish could consume.
 
 Day 4:  The trip to the pet store to purchase Gaston-3 met with even
 more success when I became aware that the original Gastons had probably
 expired from loneliness.  When the clerk explained that my 20 gallon
 tank could easily support 1 inch of fish per gallon I quickly stocked up
 on an additional 16 inches of fish.
 
 The Tiger Barbs seemed to enjoy the Angel Fish a great deal...  So much
 so that after just one afternoon's nipping and fin biting I was down to
 14 inches of fish with an additional 4 inches of fishes giving every
 appearance that they would not be long on this earth.  I was most
 alarmed by the pair of Dwarf Gouramis, the male of which appeared to be
 in extremis...  Spending all of it's time frothing bubbles at the top of
 the tank.
 
 Day 6:  Imagine my relief when the pet store clerk informed me that the
 Dwarf Gouramis were merely expressing breeding symptoms which obviously
 required the purchase of a new tank so that they might complete their
 procreation in peace.  I was painlessly deprived of more money via the
 magic of my plastic fantastic.  Gaston-4 came home with me that day as
 well.  (Gaston-3 being so well liked by my 2-year-old that it had been
 brought to his bed where it spent the night among the stuffed bears and
 a serious lack of oxygen.)  Since I was clearly an accomplished
 aquarist, it was also important that I bring home a selection of
 literature.
 
 Day 8:  We were reasonably certain that we had identified no less than 7
 fish diseases on our various fish and it was only after our trip to the
 pet store to stock up on a pharmacopia of medicines that the 3-year-old
 confessed to having dropped "one or two" crayons into the tank.  The
 trip wasn't a total loss because we did acquire yet another tank which
 was to serve as a future quarantine tank.  (Gaston-5 replaced Gaston-4,
 an unfortunate boating accident in the bathtub, again, compliments of my
 2-year-old.)
 
 Day 9:  It's hard to truly appreciate how much cornflakes are actually
 in a JUMBO ECONO SIZED box until you wake up to discover that 3
 aquariums are filled with slowly hardening mush.  The 2 and 3-year-old
 reluctantly share joint credit for having fed the fish breakfast.
 Gaston-5, alone, miraculously survives leaving behind 14 inches of fish
 who are ceremoniously sent off the the great porcelain heaven.
 
 Day 16:  Wigh 78 gallons spread over 3 tanks we were destined to spend
 months in the pet store making careful decisions about which 78 inches
 worth of fish that we would bring home with us.  Fortunately, the clerk
 who was beginning to treat us like family, suggested a pair of Rope
 Fish.  At 12 inches and 15 inches respectively, it seemed like an
 admirable solution.  A half dozen Hatchet Fish accompanied us home,
 along with a pair of Ghost Knives.
 
 Day 17:  I met a Rope Fish on my way to the bathroom this morning and my
 wife's screaming gave clear evidence that she had encountered the other
 one in the kitchen.  Catching the one in the bathroom was easy since it
 rolled conveniently onto the bathmat and was returned to the tank with a
quite pleasing fuzzy coating of deep purple wool.  The Rope Fish on the
loose in the kitchen was a much more difficult proposition since it
sought refuge first under the fridge and then under the dishwasher but
the 2-year-old was able to lure it into the open with well timed thrusts
of the DustBuster.  When the second Rope Fish was returned to the tank
we were all sure that it's escape had caused mortal wounds since it had
an enormous lump in it's mid-section...  But the absence of Gaston-5
from the tank strongly hinted at another explanation.

Day 19:  We were all getting practiced at emergency fish retrieval when
the 3-year-old faised the "Fish Overboard!" alarm.  Unfortunately, the
flock of Hatchet Fish which had taken flight were less hardy than the
Rope Fish and none of them survived.  We took a census and and
discovered that we were back down to a mere 8 inches of fish (excluding
the chubby Rope Fish) and all agreed that a re-stocking adventure to the
pet store was in order.

Day 21:  We learned a little bit about the nitrite cycle when we awoke
 to find the fish swimming in jerky circles near the top of the water.
 (The Rope Fish had already abandoned the aquarium through a tiny opening
 in the light fixture where they remained until I disassembled the unit
 much later that day.)  The fish books recommended a "partial water
 change" which was easily handled by a siphon ending in a bucket on the
 floor.  It was only after opening the front door to hear "Hi, we're the
 neighbours downstairs and..." that I realized that a siphon doesn't wait
 for a 2-year-old's urgent request to use the potty.  (It just keeps on
 siphoning...)  After profusely apologizing, and helping to clean up the
 mess in the apartment below, I was quite taken aback by their inability
 to appreciate that they could easily have kept about 12 inches of fish
 on their dining room table alone.
 
 Gaston-6 gave his life to mitigate the disaster since he was firmly
 stuck in the siphon and could not be enticed out with an offering of a
 semi-digested cookie proffered by my helpful 2-year-old.  Gaston-6 was
 sent to the porcelain heaven with full honours along with Rope Fish #1
 who was somewhat baked due to it's close proximity to a hot light bulb.
 
 Day 32:  It was with no small measure of pride that I passed out cigars
 at work and stood beaming as I announced that I was the proud foster
 father of 3 baby guppies.  This happy event might have gone unnoticed
 were it not for the fact that I *finally* decided to deal with the rich
 green algae scum which had begun to obscure the tank.  My wife nearly
 fainted when she saw the toilet bowl scrubber disappear into the tank.
 Now that I have successfully bred guppies it is obviously time to branch
 out into more complicated fish...  I shall try breeding Discus tomorrow.
 
 Month 8:  My wife swears that "it followed her home" but the 300 gallon
 tank which bars entry into our dining room is magnificently appointed.
 The wet/dry filter system, complete with protein skimmer, Ozonator,
 Oxygenator and beer bottle opener has impressed more than one visitor to
 our humble abode.  Unfortunately, the entire tank is dominated by one
 rather largish Oscar who has been singularly responsible for the
 consumption of Gastons 7 through 4,135.  We would consider giving up the
 Oscar for a mre varied collection were it not for the fact that the
 other 14 tanks spread throughout the apartment house a vast collection
 of fish and small children's toys.  We've had a few set-backs,
 particularly the Weather Loach which was purchased with the pet store
 assurance that "loaches eat algae".  Weather Loaches certainly eat
 algae...  But they do it several levels up on the food chain.
 
 The Rope Fish hasn't made an escape in months ever since my wife
 cunningly glued gravel, plastic plants, and the little plastic Elvis
 whose head flips open every minute or so to the glass cover of the
 aquarium.  The Rope Fish spends his nights swimming hopefully against
 the bottom of the tank.
 
 The Plecostamus seems happiest when he rests on the back of the Masters
 Of Doom plastic figurine which someone "fell" into the tank.  The Zebra
 Danios actually found that the waving purple hair of a My Little Pony
 was a suitable egg-depositing medium.  The Ghost Knifes live in a Lego
 castle which sank beneath the waves after a proud 3-year-old completed
 construction.  The Florida Gar hangs out in the sunken relic of a Star
 Wars X-Wing Fighter.
 
 We created several "natural environment" type tanks and the one we set
 up to replicate Lake Erie actually has the authentic collection of
 syringes and non-biodegradable plastic diapers floating on the surface.
 
 The Electric Company loves me dearly since the combined lighting,
 heating and filtration of the tanks consumes enough power to put my
 monthly bill into the triple digits...  And the pet store offers to send
 a car and driver for my shopping convenience.
 
 
 Anybody wanna buy a Goldfish?...