I am selling a fish tank. It is in excellent condition, but not “like new” because that would mean it’s never been taken from the box, and if that were the case, I would just take it back to Walmart. But as it turns out, it’s not “like new”, just in excellent condition.
Tank comes with cool rocks. They aren’t bright and they don’t do anything crazy, but they are earthy tones because I’ve never seen neon colored rocks in a river. Or the ocean. Or a lake. Once I saw them in a pond, but it was next door to a nuclear power plant and I just did not trust those rocks. Also, my décor is all earthy tones, so neon wouldn’t have matched so well.
Included is a small castle and a skull. The castle is not real. I’m not 100% sure about the skull, but I suspect it might be fake also. One just never can be sure about skulls. Unless one is Bones. In which case, can you tell me if this skull belonged to a male or female?
Additionally, there are two perfectly working filters, complete with the little things that go in the filters. The filters aren’t new, but the little thingamajigs that go inside are. We opened them to put them in and just didn’t get to it.
Tank comes with cool rocks. They aren’t bright and they don’t do anything crazy, but they are earthy tones because I’ve never seen neon colored rocks in a river. Or the ocean. Or a lake. Once I saw them in a pond, but it was next door to a nuclear power plant and I just did not trust those rocks. Also, my décor is all earthy tones, so neon wouldn’t have matched so well.
Included is a small castle and a skull. The castle is not real. I’m not 100% sure about the skull, but I suspect it might be fake also. One just never can be sure about skulls. Unless one is Bones. In which case, can you tell me if this skull belonged to a male or female?
Additionally, there are two perfectly working filters, complete with the little things that go in the filters. The filters aren’t new, but the little thingamajigs that go inside are. We opened them to put them in and just didn’t get to it.
With the tank and all the gear, we have some gold fish food, a small net, and all the chemicals you will need to start and keep the tank clean.
The only thing I do not have to sell are the fish. I killed the first one last May, right after my kids won them from the stupid school fair. Whose bright idea was that? “You knock over a cup of water and we’ll send you home with a living thing to try not to kill.” What? “Here mom, don’t kill this.” I guess they figured I’d managed to keep three kids alive for a few years, I should be able to handle three goldfish, right? Whoops.
The second and third ones hung on for such a long time. Once the first one died, it’s like the filters were able to keep up with just two, and they kept that tank cleaner than a Marine keeps his barracks room on field day. I fed them religiously, stayed on top of making sure their water was good and their tank was clean and their filters were changed.
And then, one day earlier this month, the tank randomly started growing grass. Algae, really. We took the fish out and put them in a big plastic bowl while we worked on cleaning the tank and the rocks and the castle and the skull and the filters. It’s not easy to clean up algae! It doesn’t just wash off. It’s serious work, and time consuming. When we went to put the fish back in, one had gone belly up.
We gave him a sea burial and moved the other fish to a clear glass bowl. Within an hour, he was lying on his side on the bottom, not moving.
My daughter cried. “Mom killed them all! Murderer!”
“He’s not dead. Look, he’s just sad he doesn’t have other fish around!” I told her, holding the bowl up and shaking it. And truthfully, he wasn’t dead. Yet. His gills were still moving. I refused to allow my husband to flush him until he was thoroughly dead. So- we sat him on the counter.
“I can’t just leave him on the counter in that bowl, dying. That’s awful. Do something,” I told him.
“Can’t we take him and put him in the lake? There’s all kinds of fish there for him to swim with,” my daughter begged us.
I’m pretty sure that he’s fish bait now. And not “Nemo found his dad” fish bait, but “many little golden pieces” fish bait. She was so proud of herself, setting “Pudge” free into the lake. My husband assured me that the fish was dead before they got there.
Anyway, so we have this great fish tank for sale, and I really need you to buy it before my kids decide to bring home more fish for me to kill.
The only thing I do not have to sell are the fish. I killed the first one last May, right after my kids won them from the stupid school fair. Whose bright idea was that? “You knock over a cup of water and we’ll send you home with a living thing to try not to kill.” What? “Here mom, don’t kill this.” I guess they figured I’d managed to keep three kids alive for a few years, I should be able to handle three goldfish, right? Whoops.
The second and third ones hung on for such a long time. Once the first one died, it’s like the filters were able to keep up with just two, and they kept that tank cleaner than a Marine keeps his barracks room on field day. I fed them religiously, stayed on top of making sure their water was good and their tank was clean and their filters were changed.
And then, one day earlier this month, the tank randomly started growing grass. Algae, really. We took the fish out and put them in a big plastic bowl while we worked on cleaning the tank and the rocks and the castle and the skull and the filters. It’s not easy to clean up algae! It doesn’t just wash off. It’s serious work, and time consuming. When we went to put the fish back in, one had gone belly up.
We gave him a sea burial and moved the other fish to a clear glass bowl. Within an hour, he was lying on his side on the bottom, not moving.
My daughter cried. “Mom killed them all! Murderer!”
“He’s not dead. Look, he’s just sad he doesn’t have other fish around!” I told her, holding the bowl up and shaking it. And truthfully, he wasn’t dead. Yet. His gills were still moving. I refused to allow my husband to flush him until he was thoroughly dead. So- we sat him on the counter.
“I can’t just leave him on the counter in that bowl, dying. That’s awful. Do something,” I told him.
“Can’t we take him and put him in the lake? There’s all kinds of fish there for him to swim with,” my daughter begged us.
I’m pretty sure that he’s fish bait now. And not “Nemo found his dad” fish bait, but “many little golden pieces” fish bait. She was so proud of herself, setting “Pudge” free into the lake. My husband assured me that the fish was dead before they got there.
Anyway, so we have this great fish tank for sale, and I really need you to buy it before my kids decide to bring home more fish for me to kill.
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