We recently suffered a loss in our family: My son’s beloved pet fish — a beta, aptly named “Blue” — has died.
Well, I say “beloved” but in all honesty, I’m not so sure anymore just how attached he was to him because Blue has been dead a week now — and he’s yet to notice.
In fact, no one in my house has noticed.
Poor Blue.
Now, that’s not to say our fishy friend went entirely unmourned, I gave him the honorary “flush” when I discovered him doing the backstroke in his bowl.
My intention was to avoid the topic of death all together and simply replace the fish the following day. But — and I don’t have any real excuse here — I forgot.
The next night, out of habit, I went to feed the fish only to remember he was gone and that I still needed to pick up a new one. But then I had a thought: Just how long can an empty bowl of water sit here on the bookshelf before someone notices?
Well, eight days later, I still don’t have an answer to that question.
And now I’m committed.
On the second night, I started documenting the empty bowl with a series of Twitter posts bearing the hash-tag “fishstory.” I have amassed quite the following of people — many of whom are now placing wagers on just how long my family can remain oblivious.
The funny part is it’s not just my kids — my husband hasn’t noticed yet either.
Again, poor Blue. (You would think after four years in the house a fish might have earned a little more respect.)
In the meantime, I’m faced with another decision: The water in Blue’s former home is getting a little scummy and I need to decide just how far I’m willing to take this experiment. Am I really the kind of person who will change the water in an empty bowl just to carry on my nightly chuckle?
Yes. Yes, I am.
On the other hand, I’ve considered replacing Blue with another beta — a red one this time — and see how long before someone notices that “Blue” isn’t blue anymore.
Of course, this could go on for months possibly — years even. Who knows?
Or maybe I just need to realize that Blue was apparently my fish all along as I was the one that cared for him. That, and to never — ever — let my kids get a dog.
“But we’ll take care of it, Mommy!”
Sure …
