OK, so remember my genius idea for a Christmas present for the boys?
If not, let me refresh your memory.
In fact, nightly dinner conversation often revolves around the fine art of reciting favorite "sponge" episodes.
It usually sounds something like this:
Nick: Neyeah Squidward, Neyeah Squidward, Neyeah Squidward.....
Pete: I'll be there faster than a barefoot jackrabbit on a hot, greasy griddle in the middle of August!
Weston: Meow, Meow, Meow, Meow, Meow, Meow...
Pete: Do you smell it? That smell, a kind of smelly smell? The smelly smell that smells...smelly?
Followed immediately by rounds and rounds of hysterical laughter.
I usually sit there quiet and clueless amidst the laughter, singing and silly sound effect.
So while shopping online last Christmas,
I found this.
A goldfish tank disguised as an exact replica of Bikini Bottom.
How could I resist?
I decided if I couldn't beat them, I might as well join them in their underwater obsession.
So I purchased the aquatic microcosm and accompanying fish for minimal money.
With the exception of the costly additives and the series of chemical trials I needed to perform to prevent New Tank Syndrome (a fancy word that means nothing more than cloudy water)
our Bikini Bottom bubbled merrily away on the top of our kitchen counter.
That is until yesterday.
When SpongeBob's happy, little pineapple suddenly transformed into a terrifying tomb for its sole ailing aquatic inhabitant.
Thankfully the boys didn't notice the fateful finish of their flippered friend.
So Pete took the boys out to eat as I disassembled our Bikini Bottom facsimile and performed the usual fish-disposal ritual by sailing our silenced salmon swirling down the sacred sewer stream.
I am happy to report that so far....the boys haven't inquired about the whereabouts of their missing sea creature or my eminent domain of their pineapple property!
But it is surely just a question of time.