Josh brought two goldfish home from a birthday party last week. Not the crackers. The real deal! {Mental note: never send pets home as a parting gift! Oh yeah, I'd never do that in the first place!}
They have become quite the fascination, at least for Rachel and Caleb.
They always love to look at them, so I lower the bucket down several times a day for them to get their looksies.
It just so happens that on one of their looksies, I discovered one of the little guys was laying on his side, not moving.
I sent him to the big fishbowl in the sky {location: sewer ponds west of town via the toilet} and Emily and Josh got upset that I didn't feed him to the cats!
Afterward I changed the water, thinking that the bigger fish would appreciate not having to swim in dead fishy water. Wouldn't you?!?
In the process he flipped out of the grabber thingy onto the counter and laid there stiff as a board. I thought I was going to have to explain to Josh how both fish had died in one day.
But alas, the little guy perked right up once he got scooted back into the water! PHEW!
Later that same day, during the 30 seconds that I ran to the mailbox, Rachel managed to climb onto the counter, retrieve the fish food, run to the hall, open the lid, and scatter the smelly flakes from one end to the other. When she realized I had discovered her actions, she and Caleb began furiously shoving handfuls of the food into their mouths. ICK! ICK! SOOOO ICKY!!
I did manage to get things cleaned up.
ICK!! ICK!! ICK!!!