In search of an inexpensive, fun activity, we went to the fish hatchery. Katie told me a joke. What did the fish say when it swam into the wall? Dam.
Dam. Dam. There's a baby somewhere in all that green fabric, by the way.
And there's a Kiki in that fish head.
And an Addie. Fish was hungry.
Maybe because the fish needs to make all these giant eggs housing small children.
Chloe in the large sculpture of poo. Or tree roots. Neither one really makes sense.
Bracken, bearing the wounds of blood donation and struggling phlebotomists, and Addie, about to feed the fish.
Dad, where'd my food go?
That's right, the crazy fish ate it. When I was growing up, every summer we would visit my grandparents in Utah. My Grandpa Geilman would take us out to this trout farm and we would go "fishing." We would throw a handful of fish food into the pond, then drop our hooks, which had a little fish food shaped piece of leather on the end, into the water. And catch a fish every time.
I kind of wish I had a piece of leather on a hook. And some more time with my grandpa. Chloe just wants to see the fish go crazy again.
Addie liked to drop her food in a piece at a time.
Then the girls decided to have the fish food experience for themselves.
I guess Addie got digested faster.