Precociousness vs. Water

Sometime yesterday, or during the night previous, Zoey's fish tank leaked. We discovered the near disaster when we were shuffling some things around in her room...her carpeted room. Now there's a bath towel sized water stain on carpet that is less than a year old, and dirty fish water makes for a bad stain. June is confident that we can lift it out, I am loathing fish tanks, and Zoey is hilariously perturbed and simultaneously disturbed by the turn of events. She doesn't like that stain in her room...no sir. That's her space and before all this fishy nonsense, it was pristine, now it is not. She's not happy about it.

She woke up this morning and flew into our bedroom yelling, "Mummy...Daddy...my room was leaking!"

We already knew that.

"We need to fix it."

We're going to...today.

"Let's fix it right now."

Sure thing Fidel.

I don't know how you're going to spend your Sunday morning but ours revolves around fish water, carpet, and someone in pajamas demanding that everything be perfect. It's like we live with Moammar Gadhafi.