R.I.P Fishy

Last week when I was in San Antonio our fish "died." John didn't tell me and when I got home and saw a tank without a fish I asked him about it.

"John, did our fish die!?"
"oh yeah, I forgot to tell you..."
"oh man...what happened...how did you find him floating?"
"well...not really...he...just kinda died..."
"Did he die or not?"
"...well...he...he was looking kind of peakish!"
"peakish? really? how can a fish look peakish?"
"he was always hiding in the rocks and stuff, I think he was sick and on the verge of dying"
"I think he just liked to hide..."

So basically our fish didn't totally DIE, but John decided to flush him anyway..since he was peakish and all. Boys, you can never trust them. I felt kinda bad, but didn't really think much about it. In fact, I forgot all about it until the kids asked where our fish was when they came last weekend. Apparently they were fond of him. Truthfully I was shocked they even remembered we had a fish.

I was telling my mom about it and she reminded me of how different the story went when I was a child and my first goldfish ever, Jessica, died. I totally forgot how upset I was when she died. I couldn't allow my dad to just flush her! The though killed me. She was my precious fish...a part of my family and I insisted on a proper burial. So, dad dug a hole in the backyard for my fish. I put her in a shoebox, :) so it was a pretty big hole, decorated it & made it a comfortable resting place for her. It was even complete with a school picture of myself taped to the inside of the lid so she could see me. Then we had a funeral for her & I cried...a lot.

Ah, what a weird kid I was.

Thanks mom & dad for indulging me & taking the time to bury a fish! I suppose I've matured a bit since this poor fish didn't even get a tear.

RIP Jessica
RIPFrank Fred or whatever it's name was