I think we may have had the worlds shortest pet ownership today.
We brought the fish, which ended up being named Buddy, home from preschool at 5:00 today.
At 8:15 she was swimming around the tank we had set up. We had called The Grandparents to tell them about Buddy.
At 8:45, after Tae Kwon Do and showers, we (The Husband, Q and I) had this conversation:
Q: The fish isn't moving
Us: Oh, that's okay, is she at the top of the water or the bottom?
Q: The bottom, but it's not moving
Us: (to each other) Oh Sh!t.
Q: "C'mon ... wake up. Mom, is it sleeping?"
The Husband and I walked into the other room and sure enough, Buddy had curved over on herself and was at the bottom of the tank, looking pretty dead.
Q: Is it dead?
Us: Oh, yes, it is. It looks like Buddy died.
Q: Oh, this is so sad. Why did it die? Oh, The Bee is going to be very sad in the morning.
Us: Well, Q, sometimes fish die. We talked about how they could die, remember?
Q: But why? Did it have too much water?
Us: No, I don't think that fish can have too much water.
Q: Oh, this is not good.
Seriously ... I figured if the fish lasted four days it would be a miracle. It didn't even last four hours. I know that the handling it got between leaving school and getting put in the tank was putting it at a high risk, but I didn't think it would die the same night we brought it home. Now, I have to explain to my daughter that her fish died last night, but, knowing how life works, her brother will get to her first and I'll get blasted by a crying child at 6am. Tomorrow morning could be very interesting.
So, it looks like we're taking a trip to the pet store tomorrow to get two fish instead of just one.
Let's pray that these next two fish last more than this one did.
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