Pathognomonic of the syndrome apparently (apart from the more obvious plasma screen TV, X-Box,BBQ and two car (man-like sedan for him, chicky-babe bubble car for her ) garage ) is an interest in fish.In tanks. With complex eco-systems (many involving miniature plastic palaces and ruined temples).
There are even large chain stores, some dealing only with the complicated apparatus of the fish-lover , others branching into other aspects of what I can only consider to be an unhealthy interest in lower forms of life. If you can't eat it wear it or ride it what could possibly make you spend time with it?
Of course No 1 has a history of this sort of thing . Who could possibly forget the Great Guppy Massacre of 2005? Or the Siamese Fighting Fish fiasco of 2004 which preceded it ?Only his aunt's carelessness with a vacuum cleaner (goodbye 150l tank and a carpet) and a refocussing of his year 12 interests (towards parties and girls) saved us from becoming Fish Paradise.
And so No 1 found himself in the pet equivalent of k-mart looking for a shrimp to clean his windows.
Not for nothing did he do aquaculture in year 11 -when the girl brought out the little fella he looked at it suspiciously.
"That's a yabby" he said.
No, she asserted, it was a shrimp.
He pointed out that he was pretty sure that shrimps were not black with menacing claws and furthermore- if he was correct -that the fate of his existing fish would be decapitation the moment they went to sleep in the presence of their new buddy.
The sales assistant insisted tearfully that it was a shrimp. The manager arrived and looked at the counter. "What's with the yabby?" he asked.
No 1 looked more closely at the girl's badge. Under her name "Mandy" it stated "Bird Dept".
"You don't know anything about fish do you? " he asked.
"Well, " she said defensively "All the other girls are in the toilet."
(He didn't ask).
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