You want to make an omelet, you have to break some eggs

The new aquarium

When my mother was a kid in West Virginia, my grandfather would take her on trips to the pet store. They would drive back home with clear plastic bags that had been inflated like balloons and half-filled with water. Also in the water would be fish. Some wouldn't survive the trip but the other hardy souls that withstood the obstacles of a long car drive would be in for another equally exciting ride.

Stories about aquariums and my grandfather are fascinating. He siphoned water out of one fish tank using a hose that ran through a window in their house. Coral was boiled in my grandmother's best kitchen pots. Water, apparently, flew everywhere.

I would listen to these stories and snootily think that I would never allow for such messes to be created; I would find a better way.

As it turns out, my grandfather gets the last laugh as I recently found myself elbow deep in my own watery chaos.

I am the proud owner of two very large angel fish. When I got them at Petco, they were tiny, triangular  creatures. Their delicate bodies were marked with black stripes and shined like brand-new dimes. But that was then. Now, they are pretty big, not to mention voracious eaters. Even with their small, beady eyes they can see me approaching their home with that plastic can of fish food. They wiggle excitedly and practically jump into the opened can to gorge on orange and red flakes. Lately it seems they will attempt to flip out of their tank for any reason even if dinner is nowhere in sight.

Perhaps that is because the aquarium they were in was too small. I concluded this months ago but hadn't gotten around to doing anything about it. Then on Christmas Day, under a black garbage bag wrapping, was a new, bigger tank Along with it came some new plastic plants, new gravel and a new stand. So on the day of the big move, I set the new tank on the stand, spread gravel on the floor of the tank, and began pouring in water. I used a plastic carafe that I picked up years ago at the grocery store to transport water from the kitchen sink to the tank. I think the carafe's original purpose was to serve lemonade or sangria but all I have ever used it for is to deliver fresh water to my aquarium. I poured the first serving of water into the tank and watched it be swallowed up completely by the earth-colored gravel. This was going to take a while. Around my third or fourth trip to the aquarium, I decided another method was needed. I opened the cabinet where I keep my own pots and pulled out the biggest one. I still ferried the stew pot between the tank and the sink a number of times but managed to get the tank about three-quarters full. At this point, I followed my mother's advice and mixed in some of water from the old aquarium into the new tank. It was also at this particular point where the mess started. Streaks and streams of water seemed to pool and expand out of thin air. Water would creep towards the edge of the shelf where the tank sat, lean over the edge, and then drip lazily onto the next shelf below.

There was no time to be bothered with this; I still needed to move my fish. I have no fish net so I used a tupperware bin. I managed to nab one but returning for the second I noticed the water was so murky I couldn't even see it. I eventually caught sight of it and moved the final fish to the new tank. By then all those little streams of water collected into a shallow pond. It took many crumbled wads of  paper towels and an old bath towel to mop all the water. And that was before I decorated the new tank with  plants and had a brief scare that I mooshed one of the fish when placing the plastic treasure box. So there was more paper towels and more frantic wiping with the bath towel.

After all the old, algae encrusted equipment was tossed and all the trash disposed of, I studied the new aquarium. Do you like it? I asked the fish. If they could speak, I am sure they would have cried, yes! It is twice as big as the old tank and far more swanky. The front panel curves and filter system only lets out a whisper of a noise.

I sighed in satisfaction; my fish seemed to bobble in comfort and I am sure many, many miles away, my grandfather was chuckling.