Sleeping With the Fishes

Sunday afternoon, Cindie and I were waking Hannah from her afternoon nap when we noticed Dorothy, her fish was lay still on the glass marbles that line the bottom of the fish bowl.

We brought Hannah downstairs while we did a quick brainstorm. What do we do? Swap in a new fish and hope she doesn't know the difference, or introduce her to one of life's most painful truths?

We chose truth. Cindie told her that Dorothy was dead. We were not sure she would even know what that meant. She said she wanted to see. So we went back upstairs with her. When she saw dead Dorothy, she began to sob. "I don't want Dorothy to be dead."

And at that I began to cry over $1.29 Meijer-purchased Beta that has always brought me more pain than pleasure.