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Things have been a little tense around here: When Frankie eats dried brine shrimp and we also eat shrimp, he gets nervous about who’s next in the seafood department. In fact, he’s traumatized. I’m traumatized, too, having just opened a letter from an anonymous reader who signs himself “F.” His letter was brief, but to the point. Here’s what it said:
The Top 10 Signs You May Be Too Close to Your Fish:
• You buy him little outfits including a raincoat and booties.
• You leave the TV set on so he won’t get bored while you’re at work.
• You take him for walks in a water-filled plastic bag so he can “get a breath of fresh air.”
• You become jealous when he expresses interest in other fish.
• You refer to yourselves as “Mommy” and “Daddy” and say such things as “Mommy wuvs ooo!”
• You read him bedtime stories such as Finding Nemo and The Littlest Mermaid. If he retreats to the plaster pirate ship in his bowl, you threaten to read The Cat in the Hat.
• You cup your hand over the telephone to keep your conversations private.
• You tell him “You’re a pretty boy! Oh, yes you are! Oh, yes you are!” which he finds patronizing.
• You introduce dinner guests to him by name.
The letter continued: “Your fish may need psychological counseling at $150 a pop. We will not warn you again, but if your aberrant behavior continues, we will take swift and decisive action. What size cement boots do you wear? - F.”
This is unnerving. While Ron and I plead the Fifth on the first nine points, we never introduce dinner guests to Frankie because he has trouble remembering names. Instead, we introduce Frankie to them. There’s a difference.
No tough guy is going to intimidate us, particularly one who writes anonymously. It couldn’t have been our Frankie who wrote that note because he’s innocently napping inside the plaster pirate ship in his bowl.
I’m rattled enough that I’ve decided to delay posting my Creamed Shrimp in Scallop Shells recipe until tomorrow. He-e-ey! It’s comforting that I have a refreshing glass of Sauvignon Blanc in my left hand as I hunt and peck with my right. Ron and I are quivering in fear, but another glass should help.
Cement boots notwithstanding, I’ll post that recipe tomorrow. xox Nicole