Last Friday, we had some kinda morning.
Remember these guys?

All, but two are dead. And, one is now mentally-challenged.
And, no, we don’t keep them in a Rubbermaid container. 
They only live there temporarily when this is getting cleaned:
I awoke Friday morning to a panicked Beau. I heard him from downstairs saying something about all the fish being dead. 
Let me say, first-off, that the fish and pond are Beau and La Petite Belle’s thing. I am not involved. I do not get attached to fish that may die on any given day. K Belle is more or less like me. It’s their thing. They take care of it all. La Petite Belle holds the fish, talks to the fish, pets the fish. They have named the fish and we’ve had these fish for about two years. They were quite attached.
La Petite Belle heard this bit of information, proceeded to cry, and ran down the stairs. Lots of wailing ensued. 
My statement to Beau at this time, being the sensitive one I am, was, “You killed the $20 koi too?” (that I bought for his birthday)
Le Petite Belle’s favorite fish, Lil’ Miss, was also dead.
I headed upstairs to continue to get the girls ready for camp, which they needed to leave for in half-an-hour. I dressed and consoled La Petite Belle and told her we’d get new fish.
Beau called up to me, “What am I supposed to do with the fish? Put them down the garbage disposal?”
WHAT?!?
I said, “No. Absolutely not. Wrap them in trash bags and throw them in the garbage. Double-bag them.” The thought of putting the fish down the garbage disposal was first, disgusting, and second, would  be devastating to La Petite Belle.
A little while later, I heard the garbage disposal. I thought, of course he’s not putting them down there against my better wishes.
He was.
And in the process of doing this deed, one of the pipes for the disposal came unattached and water sprayed all over the kitchen.
I didn’t say, “I told you so.” I said, “I told you not to do that.”
In order to dry out the cabinet under the sink, Beau left the cabinet doors open.
About two minutes later, La Petite Belle was alone in the kitchen, doing the only logical thing short people do when they need a glass … I have experience with this … hopping up on the cabinet counter to get one.
When she hopped back down, the back of her leg hit the corner of the open cabinet door and cut and bruised her leg like you would not believe. We thought she might need stitches, but it turned out OK, after we took her to the church camp nurse. 
Look.
All in all, everyone is recovering.
And we are proud to welcome two new members to our family: King Arthur and Baby Carrot or Russell (La Petite Belle’s torn between the two. I’m leaning toward Russell.).