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At the Hour of Total Exhaustion (right after Tadpole fell asleep, because Froglet is very easy with bedtime but Tadpole isn't, let's keep it at that) Husband and I were sprawled on the couch in front of the TV, channel-hopping during the commercials.

Oooh, marine wildlife. We watched the marine wildlife for a minute.

A woman diver comes up to this enormous, vile-looking fish (a grouper, my dictionary says), pets it, then takes the mouthpiece out of her mouth and kisses the bugger on the flank.

Sorry, did I miss something? Is this the discovery channel, or some sort of bizarre bonding ritual? Or the frog prince revisited? Er, nope, still a fish.

There comes man diver, right behind woman diver, and he will not be outsmarted. He takes his mouthpiece out and aims straight for the big fish's mouth. WTF? Big fish narrowly avoided being french-kissed by representative of homo sapiens species by turning its head at the very last second, and the kiss landed on its gills.

It looked clearly less thrilled by the encounter than the divers.

Then the divers took off, followed by another big fish.

"Might be jealous it didn't get kissed?" Husband suggested.

Right. So. I might have gotten cat poop in my eye (ew), but at least I have never tried kissing a giant, vile-looking fish. So there.
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