A few weeks ago, FM#2’s Occupational Therapist gave him a betta fish with all the fixings — read plastic fishbowl because she knows my life and knows a glass one wouldn’t last. All the kids enjoyed Betta Bob. He was red and quite beautiful as he swam around his bowl. But earlier this week, he seemed, well, not quite as enthusiastic as he had before. I was worried. Apparently, my fears were not unfounded. This morning he was dead. Had I looked closely, I would have discovered it before the kids got up but I didn’t. There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth by FM#2 upon our discovery. FM#3, aka The Town Crier, ran screaming to the other kids “Betta Bob is dead. Betta Bob is dead.” Whereupon, FM#2 wailed louder with each pronouncement.
So cancel the morning grocery store run I had scheduled and go to the pet store instead. In the meantime, FM#1 asked how much a fish cost and could he buy one. Upon arrival in the fish section, I inquire about goldfish. I had goldfish growing up. They lasted for years. Not weeks. Plus, since there were lots in the tank, if one bit the dust, it wasn’t so, um, traumatic. But apparently goldfish require filtration. We don’t have an electrical outlet near the bowl, a placement so chosen because it’s mainly out of FM#3’s reach. So, back to the betta fish. I know you can’t put two males together but this store has females also, so we got a male and a female. The kids are quite excited. They expect babies. The wedding is tonight. 🙂 On the way home, FM#2 said, “I can’t wait until we put the lovies together in the bowl.” Apparently, Betta Betty wasn’t so excited. Male Betta #2 (as yet unnamed) follows her around the bowl and she swims away.
I told the salesman, who assured me that they wouldn’t have enough room to make babies, that I was bringing the younguns back to him.
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