Fish

This weekend we lost our goldfish, both of them.

Their names were Frankie and Freckles.

Rupert and Keira decided to try and pet the fish and in doing so, one came out of the tank and landed on the table, they scraped up the decorative frog/mushroom thing causing paint chips to float around in the water and got the tank full of toddler germs.

When I saw what was happening I put the one fish, Frankie, back in the water and he was reborn!

Or so I thought...

I cleaned the tank and gave Rupert and Keira a serious talk about not petting fish and how they could kill them. I may have been a little harsh, but it's life and death... not a game.

Anyway, that was Saturday, by Sunday evening both fish had died.

Once again, I gave Rupert a serious talk.

At first he thought you could just put food in the bowl and they would wake up.

Then he thought it was fun because he got to flush them down the toilet.

So here I am, trying to explain to a 3 year old what death is and why Mommy's mad at him, ugh.

I explained that when you die, you go to sleep and never wake up. EVER.

He didn't quite grasp that.

At this point I'm frustrated because I think he needs to understand the severity of the situation...

So I say "Rupert, would you want Mommy to die? Would you want Mommy to never wake up?"

This may have been a tad dramatic on my part but I didn't know how else to relate it to him...

At this point he looks at me all serious and says "You can't die Mommy, you're my life"

For real.

I almost sobbed.

Instead I gave him a huge hug and explained that that fish is another fish's mommy and that's why it's SAD that they are dead and we will never try to pet fish again.

At first Chris and I discussed not getting anymore fish.

Really, its just alot of bowl cleaning.

We just have one of those classic one gallon goldfish bowls.

But after a couple of hours we were thinking that maybe we could try it again, just once.

So, last night on my way home from work I stopped at the pet store and got a fantail goldfish.

He's soooooooooooo pretty!

We put him in his little bowl and brought him out to meet Rupert.

He was super excited and I asked him what he wanted to name him...

He responded "Big Fat Daddy"

I thought he might go with something Ghostbusters since that's his LIFE.

But no, he went with Big Fat Daddy, which I think comes from Big Daddy from "Kick-Ass"

Don't judge me, he loves that movie too.

Now the big reveal. Drum roll please....

BIG FAT DADDY

I think he's beautiful and I love him.

Hopefully Rupert has learned his lesson and we didn't just bring a fish home to kill it.

I know its lame, but I think its super sad.

And it gives me the willies.

Like REALLY bad.

I can't do the dead fish thing at all, Chris has to do it for me.

I can't even look.

(shiver)

So here's hoping for a long and healthy life for Big Fat Daddy!