I have learned to hate Junior’s fish. It’s a Betta. It’s kind of
cute
– red with purplish fins. And Junior loves it. He talks to it.
He feeds it. I even caught him singing to it once.
I have learned to hate Junior’s fish. It’s a Betta. It’s kind of cute – red with purplish fins. And Junior loves it. He talks to it. He feeds it. I even caught him singing to it once.
But I hate that stupid fish.
For one thing – it’s a fish. Oh sure, it’s serene, floating around in its little bowl. But it’s just a fish. It isn’t like a dog. A dog may lie around and sleep all day – at least that’s what our dog does – but when it’s awake, the dog will usually sit next to me and give me a little kiss. Even Junior’s lizard will at least cuddle up to a nice, warm neck.
But the fish? It just swims around all day – and plays dead.
Yes, the fish plays dead. I think that’s why I hate the fish so much – it keeps messing with my brain. It plays dead a lot. The first time I was fooled. Actually, I have to admit that EVERY time the stupid fish has played dead I’ve been fooled.
But the first time was the worst. I went into Junior’s room, where most of the animals in our house live, to give the fish some food. See how nice I am? Even though the fish and I don’t get along, I DO feed it.
And that darned fish was floating upside down at the top of his little bowl.
Well, I nearly had a heart failure. Junior is an animal lover. I just knew that he would have an absolute cow when he came home to a dead fish. I figured I had two choices. I could bury the fish at sea and just tell Junior that it had gone to find its relatives in the ocean somewhere – or I could do a bait and switch. You know, flush the fish then run down to the pet store and get an identical twin fish, pop him in the bowl and voila! Junior would never know that the fish died.
But then I realized that Junior should be told the truth. Oh, all right. The truth is, I wanted to do the bait and switch – but it was too late. Junior was already on his way home from school. There was no way I could flush the fish and purchase a substitute before Junior walked in the door.
So when Junior did walk in the door, I was waiting. I sat him down on the couch in the family room and offered him a cookie. Junior was immediately suspicious. He’s not allowed to eat on the couch and he’s never, ever offered a cookie right when he gets home. He looked at me with his big, brown puppy dog eyes and asked what happened.
And I told him. I told him that his wonderful fish was dead. I even started a little speech about how great a life his fish had and what a privilege it was to have known his fish. Junior’s eyes welled up with tears. He screamed, “No, no, I don’t believe you!” He ran to his room.
Where that stupid fish was swimming around in the stupid fish bowl.
I’m telling you, I could have flushed the stupid thing right then and there. I was so mad I would not have played TAPS. I may even have done a double flush.
Since then, the fish has played dead several times. I just hope it keeps playing. But just in case, if you are at the fish store, ask them to hold a red Betta with purple fins for me.
