Hey, didn't you used to have a fish?

Yes, yes, we did, rest his little fins.*

We now, however, have very loud reminders to feed, clothe, change, and otherwise entertain the current dependents.

For example, the other night, we put two cranky little kids to bed, about 20 minutes early (it was either that, or kill 'em). Vaughn settled in nicely, but Ailsa cranked and fussed and wailed. After the third time up there, to see if she was gassy, poopy, or too hot, I suddenly realized what she was trying to tell me at very high decibels.

Although YES, we fed her dinner -- oops -- we forgot to give her the usual cup of milk afterwards. So I brought the little red-eyed angel (note how the perspective changes!) back downstairs, handed her a sippy cup of milk, which she chugged, and threw her back into her crib.

And without a peep, she rolled over and closed her eyes.

*No, I didn't starve my fish to death! Buddy passed after a valiant battle with um... some kind of condition that caused him to list to one side and not swim very well. He was treated with the best fish-drops I could find, but lost the war. Poor little fish.