December 29, 2011
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Fish Tales
It was 4:30 on a lazy afternoon. I was busy folding clothes, occasionally straining my neck out the laundry room door to see Miriam. She has a bad habit of sticking everything in her mouth. EVERYTHING. So I seldom get much done around the house. My sole purpose in life seems to be to keep her alive and breathing. Periodically, I discover that there are no clean underwear in the house and it becomes necessary to process a load of laundry. A terrifying prospect that leaves my infant girl unattended for up to 8 seconds at a time. A knock comes at the back door; it’s my neighbor asking if I can watch their fish for a few days while they are out of town. Excited to have company, I welcome her in for a moment. Given my habit of forgetting to feed fish (our fish died about this time last year) I decided to stick the fish bowl in the middle of the dining table so I would remember to feed it. Then we stepped to the door, chatting about how much Miriam has grown. I heard delighted giggles and laughter from the dining table…which I assumed was the boys watching the fish swim around in its bowl. Jackson peers around the corner “Mommy, Caleb won’t give me a turn to hold the fish!” *Gasp* I look over at Caleb in horror; there in his palm is a very limp fish. Not even 3minutes and we’ve already killed the fish!! With my neighbor watching (and stifling laughter) I rushed to the fish bowl and dropped the tiny betta back in. It sank to the bottom. Oh yes, it’s quite dead. My neighbor, laughing, said goodbye and left. I tapped the fish bowl in desperation, trying to get the fish to revive. Meanwhile, Miriam has snuck out the open back door and crawled across the patio, a rock in her hand and a clod of dirt in her mouth. I rescued her and shoveled the dirt from her mouth. It was in the middle of this chaos that Aaron walked in the door, home from work an hour early. He asked what was for dinner. I stared back at him for a second; “ummm…Fish?”
Comments (3)
Erma Bombeck lives! David and I had a good laugh.
wow, what a great story! and who says mothering is boring?
This sounds all too familiar! David and I constantly marvel at how our own hearty little Betta has managed to survive since August when Susannah got him as a birthday gift. He’s survived multiple attempts on his life, including copious amounts of lotion IN his fish bowl water and Lydia’s many daily attempts to scoop him out. She literally climbs up the changing table (don’t ask me how it doesn’t topple over) to reach the bowl. Fortunately, she’s never actually scooped him out (yet!) so he lives to fight another day, unlike your poor neighbor’s fish.