May 26, 2010
The Fish Funeral
Today our beloved pet goldfish (inconsistently named Nemo, Sharky, and Dr. Wimpy) kicked the bucket. The official cause of death is unknown but contributing factors may include old age and gluttony.
A few days ago, one of my children confused "a pinch of food" with a cup.
Kellen was the first to notice the body, and with the help of one of my soup ladles, scooped the corpse onto a paper towel.
"We should have a funeral," he said.
I agreed. A simple send off would not do for such a treasured friend; it was decided by common consensus that we would build a Viking funeral barge out of a shoebox and set the boat adrift in the current.
My neighbor declined our request to turn her outdoor hot tub into the ocean.
"We are going to have to dig a hole in the yard," I announced.
"That's so boring!" my kids whined.
"Or we could flush him down the toilet," I suggested.
This idea was something to get excited about. We drew straws to pick the actual flusher. After it was all over, we decided that Nemo/Sharky/Dr. Wimpy's journey to the other side was strangely appropriate. All currents lead to the ocean after all.