True Life: I'm a mom.
A few months ago I got each of the boys a fish. I don't know why. I have made better decisions. I have made worse ones. But that's a lengthy post for another time.
So we got these fish. The boys were thrilled. They were talking to them and feeding them and even convinced they had taught them to do tricks. Then Tristan's fish started to...fail. Yes, in health. But even more so in basic fish skills. It was swimming upright. Like head to the top and tail to the bottom. And not even swimming. More like bobbing. Like when you're wearing a life jacket and you aren't drowning but you're also not swimming? Like that.
I had hoped this fish would survive until the boys were at their dad's for the weekend. Then we could celebrate the miraculous recovery. But something in me said Gulpy wasn't going to make it. So off I went to the store to procure a reasonable replacement.
Problem 1: I didn't really have a good picture of Gulpy. In hindsight we have learned that my memory of the fish isn't great.
Problem 2: It was after the holidays, fish were picked over.
Problem 3: Tristan has a memory like a steel trap.
So I bought 2 fish. And not the cheap ass $2.00 ones. The ones with the fancy ears that look like that terrifying alien thingy from Life.
Lesson 1: Take a good pic of the damn fish.
Lesson 2: Prepare the child for burial at sea and welcome them to life.
Lesson 3: Lies are suuuuuper expensive. The fish and a spare set us back $30.
I was determined to fix this. The kids have had so much upheaval. The fish could not die. While he was downstairs, I did a quick switcheroo and sent Tristan upstairs to see if his fish had recovered. It was a miracle!! He comes down telling us the medicine worked. The fish grew bigger fins over night and even changed colors a bit. Come look!!!
You lot, Gulpy 2.0 does not even resemble Gulpy 1.0. But let us all take this as a lesson in the power of hope and joy. In spite of all the physical evidence to the contrary. RIP Gulpy 1.0. He expired that night in a small tank in my room. Mom gut for the win.
