Lately my husband has been making decisions without my knowledge that he obviously can’t make for himself. It all started when I took my son to Madagascar Live and came home to a husband with a mohawk. Really, a mohawk? It turns out that he tried to give himself a haircut and ended up butchering it. He had to shave his head down to the scalp and decided to leave a mohawk just to “amuse me.” He of course can’t have hair like that for work, but he kept it as long as he could just to see me tortured.
It all started with that mohawk and a pattern has been going on ever since because every time I am away for no longer than a few hours, something goes awry. Again, only a few days ago, I took Colton on a play-date and came home to a fish tank in our basement. I’m not talking about a little goldfish bowl sitting on the counter, I’m talking about a tank that a three year old could take a bath in. Now that is all fine and dandy, but we have a little 400 square foot basement with barely enough room for Colton to play AND I haven’t gotten to the good part yet…. he already has this:

So yes, right now we have this mammoth fish tank plus the other one he just put up. He for some reason can’t understand why I wouldn’t want another fish tank. Why on earth would a person need two huge fish tanks in our small space? I better win this battle or you might see us on an episode of Animal Hoarding.







