We've had a near death experience in our household this evening. Princess, the male (try telling Dylan he's a boy and not a girl fish, there's a fight you just can't win) betta who resides in my daughter's PINK bedroom, is not doing so well.
I went downstairs tonight to put some laundry away and noticed Princess laying on the bottom of his bowl. I tapped on the glass...nothing. I shook the bowl a couple of times...nothing. I just knew the damn fished had died on me. I called Bryan down so we could get our stories straight. I was suddenly in a panic, how do I tell my 4 year old that her beloved fish is dead.
Bryan told me just to flush it and she wouldn't even notice it was gone. I knew she would though, the second she went to feed him tonight. So Bryan in all his infinite wisdom marched upstairs and told Dylan:
"Sorry Dylan, your fish Princess is dead."
"But why daddy?"
"It just happens, actually it happens a lot with fish. They just die."
"BUT I LOVE HIM!"
Insert hysterical tears (Dylan's) and my heart break here. I pick up his bowl to flush him and the little bastard nearly jumps out of the bowl. He sinks back down to the bottom and starts doing that fish out of water breathing.
I went upstairs to tell Dylan the sort of good news. Her fish wasn't dead...yet. Yep, it's only a matter of days before Princess meets the white porcelain god. Somebody please help me.