Yes, we're settling in to our new house just fine. We bought two new houseplants, William is getting teeth and -breaking news- just rolled over on to his side.
But more importantly, I have a good story. I love a good story. Here's what happened... Curtis, William and I went out to eat and we left Tommy at home, of course. At our old house we were able to use a baby gate to keep Tommy in the living room (ok, a baby gate and a couple of strategically placed chairs), but at this house, the doorways are too wide for a baby gate, so Tommy has access to the living room, dining room, and kitchen. We usually do a good job of checking to make sure there's not much he can tear up before we leave the house, but this time we missed something.
We came home to find a package of hamburger buns (Tommy loves bread) ripped open on the living room floor. He'd eaten 6 of the buns and left 2. William was crying because it was time for me to feed him, so I got down to business while Curtis picked up the licked buns and scraps of plastic that weren't ingested. Curtis walked into the dark kitchen to throw away the ripped bag and buns and that's when he kicked a piece of glass. (dramatic music)
A piece of glass? What was made of glass that was sitting on the counter next to the buns? It was the jar that was temporarily housing Waldo the fish! I was stuck in the living room nursing William and relying on updates from Curtis. "Where's the fish?" "Can you find him?" "Is he dead?!" After a very long second, Curtis found Waldo, and found him alive! He put him in a coffee mug, added some Waco water, and voila! Crazy. Why didn't Tommy eat the fish? He would have been tastier than 6 dry hamburger buns. Waldo lives another day. Now we have a good reason to get his permanent home established.