For Christmas last year, Hannah decided she wanted a fish. We jumped on the idea and told her that Santa would probably bring her one if she traded in her "
bo-
bo" (pacifier). When we went to the mall to visit Santa, she handed over a baggie full of
bo-
bo's and he handed her a beta fish. She loved that little guy, and even though she put him through a lot, he seemed pretty hardy.
That is, until this last week. The poor thing lived for 10 months, though! Justin saw him laying on the rocks, and knew we had to break the news to her. We showed her how he wasn't moving, and when she didn't quite get it, I gently said, "Honey, your fishy died". She started WAILING!
She announced she wanted to tell Santa that her fishy died and that she needed a new one. I stepped out to the garage, and somehow Santa called on the phone just as I left. She told him what happened, and he suggested that mommy and daddy take her to the store to get a new fish. She liked the idea, but insisted on giving her dead fish back to him. We labeled an envelope with Santa's name and Hannah's as the return address, and put the fishy inside. Then I took a short walk to the "mailbox". Thank goodness it was trash night and our cans were already waiting outside--I'm sure putting a dead fish in a USPS mailbox is probably a felony of some sort!
The next night we went and got her a new beta fish. She's named him Phillip and has seemed to recover quickly from the grief of losing her other one, thank goodness!
