The Daddy Files and a Dead Fish (OR When Mommy Takes a Pass)

Daddy had just sat down in Harrison's room to read a bedtime story when I walked in to fix the bed covers.

I had barely crossed the threshold when, with alarm in his voice, Harrison said, "Mommy, Speed Racer is dead!"

Sure enough, in the bottom corner of the tank, Speed Racer lay motionless. Daddy looked at me and asked, "When was the last time you fed him?"

"Oh, you're funny..." I respond. Then I looked at the fish food container hidden behind a small pile of Legos and wondered...only for a moment. "I fed him yesterday!" I added. [I think]

So I tell Harrison that "we'll take care of him tomorrow" and before I can skip a beat Harrison asks, "Can we cut him open and look at his insides like a scientist?!"

Eh...er...

Then like any [good] parent, I brushed off the request and said goodnight. I'll flush the dead fish, end of story.

Not.


Upon returning home from work the next afternoon, I open the door to immediately be greeted with, "ARE YOU READY TO CUT OPEN MY FISH NOW, MOMMY!"

Great.

After wrangling, negotiating, posting on Facebook, getting advice, watching fish dissections on YouTube, old-fashioned bribing [with a pet burial], and finally convincing Daddy to take on the task - we had a dissection of said dead fish.

Poor fish, poor dead fish.

 

Poor dead, stinky fish...

Oh, but look at that cool eyeball!

Five minutes later, he was off to do something else, "Thank you, I'm done."

With that, Ken flushed the remains as planned.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day Harrison asked, "Daddy, what did you do with Speed Racer?" Er...eh... "I flushed him".


"Oh," Harrison said, "I wanted to give him a Decent Burial."

Pause.
"Well, Navy officers and Pirates have burials at sea, that's decent."


And that was all he needed to know.