I'm feeling a tad guilty (pun intended). After saying some less-than-flattering things about the tadpole, he's gone and died. And on the twins' birthday, no less. In order to redeem myself, I've done a portrait. Poor Jack. RIP.
No watery grave for this fishy-reptile. The girls are insisting on a burial. Did I mention we have 8 inches of new snow?
This portrait was rejected, it being in poor taste and all.