I am standing by for a phone call from Obama to tell me how I have let down America and the world, but before he gets to me I thought I would confess all here first.
Actually I don’t have much to confess. But someone does.
I have been wondering for a while where the two aquatic snails are. I can usually see one, which tends to be the one that rolls around on its back like a stricken beetle. I usually fish it out, put it the right way up and hope it clings on to the rock. Now it might be falling straight off again as soon as my back is turned and it might be dead for all I know and all I am doing is re-righting an upside down dead snail like it is groundhog day, but what else can you do?
And I still remembered somewhere in the deep recesses of my brain that we had two of these snails and that one and one makes two, so I have been endeavouring to see the pair of them at the same time to set my mind at rest. There are rocks and BAFTAs in the way so it is difficult to see. That’s my excuse as to why the roll call has taken so long. Today, whilst changing the water, I took the opportunity to call the snail register and when only one (rolling around on its back, question mark dead etc.) answered I called in back-up. Reluctant back-up off the sofa. I said in the most bossiest I have been this year: I am hoovering and when I come back I want to know where the missing snail is.
I hoovered, I came back. The missing snail is behind the rock the back-up said. I said, well that won’t do. I need it present and correct at the front of the tank so I can tick the register and the world can carry on. Get it out and put it at the front.
Many excuses were forthcoming about disturbing the fish, disturbing the rock, with no concern for my great disturbance. Then came The Excuse. I don’t want to put my hand in the water. In case of what? I asked. You’re lying aren’t you? There’s no damn snail.
So I put my hand in the water and lifted the rock and poked around in the filter and generally satisfied myself that we are one snail down. And, if I don’t find it behind the tank later, tomorrow will involve the Great Snail Inquest and/or a chalked outline of a snail and potential witnesses will have to be interviewed and I can tell you now I am not buying the eldest’s brief offering which was:
Perhaps the fish ate it?