“I never considered it.”
“Your fish have names.”
I had a large aquarium filled with freshwater sharks installed downstairs about six months ago when I made some other updates to my house. I got it because the aquarium looks cool in my den, not because I really acknowledge them as pets.
“The fish don’t have names.”
“You better be kidding me, Rush Bacchetti.”
“They’re decoration.”
“They’re pets!”
“I tell you what, Bird, you can name them for me.”
“Someone should name them. This is tantamount to abuse.”
“Oh, settle down. Add it to your list of how management duties.”
“We’ve got another problem.”
“What?”
“Where am I going to put my sofa?”
“In the trash?”
“Not funny.”
“I’ll move it in here. There’s plenty of space for it.”
“A sofa in my room?”
“People do it all the time.”
“People like the Queen of England?
“Lots of people decorate their bedrooms with sofas who aren’t royalty, Mia. Maybe it’s a southern thing, but my parents had a small sofa in their room my entire life. The idea is that you don’t have to sit on your bed in your street clothes.”
“Oh, I guess that makes sense. Then I’ll put it over there.” She points. “It’ll be a nice pop of color against all of this beige.”
“We can paint the room if you want.”
“Absolutely not. I can jazz things up in here without going through all of that.”
I’m sure she can.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” I tell her.
“I’m scared to ask. You’ve done so much already.”
“I’ve hard-wired the house with a speaker system and connected them to Wi-Fi. All you have to do is tell a speaker anywhere in the house what song you want to hear and he’ll play it all over the house.”
“He?”
“He’s like Alexa or Siri except that I named him Michael and I gave him an Irish accent.”
Michael Jackson is Mia’s favorite artist, and lately she has a thing for people with Irish accents. So there you have it. A perfect hybrid.
