A Fish Tale

I was going to sit down and start a Daybook knowing that I will likely not post for the next two weeks or so, but then I got frustrated by the fact that all of my thoughts were not easily fitting into the neat and tidy daybookish pattern, so I decided to do a little online shopping because there are so many sales happening right now that my head hurts.

But then, I realized that the things I really want are not on sale and so I decided that I really do feel like writing for a reason or two.

First, I am all alone in the house and not a creature is stirring.  Except for a very unsightly and incredibly creepy Betta fish which brings me to reason number two.

In his 3rd grade class, Drew had a lesson on persuasive writing.  He was to write a letter to his parents using his new found persuasive skills.  Shockingly, despite many unsuccessful pleas for a dog in the past by the Skinner boys, he did not write me a letter asking for a dog.  I believe in 12 step programs we call this acceptance of being powerless over your shrew of a mom.

Before we move on, I must defend myself because I know what you're thinking.  She has three boys.  Every boy needs a dog.  How on earth could she deprive them of a dog?  She must be a horrible puppy-hating-meanie-pants.

Listen, (Sister).

We are generally out of the house every single afternoon and evening. We are generally away all day on the weekends.  If we had a dog he would be lonely and sad.  I do not think we should have a dog and it's not because I am evil, it's because I am selfless and caring and ain't nobody got time for more guilt in her life.  I can't do it.  So, lay off.  They'll be fine.

Ok, so that brings us to the fact that Drew asked for a fish.

DONE.

We got Blue Ridge, the fish, and all was well.  He has a sparkling personality, but also seems to enjoy his alone time.  He never makes me feel guilty.  My shoes are all intact and he doesn't do the superfreak when the doorbell rings.  Drew feeds him and I help change the water and our life moves along swimmingly.

Swimmingly.  Oh my gosh. That was hilarious.  I can't believe I haven't written a book yet.  It's shocking.

A few weeks ago (or maybe - I don't know - a couple of months ago) Blue Ridge looked to have some sort of small, white, patchy, cottony thing on his side.  I mentioned to Drew that the fish looked a little sickly, but he said he asked his Magic 8 Ball if Blue Ridge was sick and it said he was fine.

I'm a little embarrassed to say that when Drew told me that, I said, "Well, alrighty then.  I guess that takes care of that.  Good news."  Because I'm pretty sure I am not generous enough to pay for a vet bill for a 2 1/2 inch fish, especially with unforeseen financial considerations like the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale.

The problem is that now, that skin thing is really big and it looks like it's taking over his blue scales. Also, he has one eye that is protruding a little bit.  Or more precisely, that thing is popping like way-the-heck-out of his eye socket.

Y'all.  It's kinda grossing me out.

I was thinking maybe it was just time to send Blue Ridge down that pipeline to fishy heaven where there will be no more mourning and pain and He will wash away every tear and perhaps also, every fungus - like nasty skin disease and psycho looking demon eye, but Drew seems rather attached to this particular creepy fish.   I think he listened really close to the story at VBS this week of how Jesus did not disregard the lepers like the people in Biblical times did.  He sat among them and broke bread with them and all that. 

So since we're all trying to be more like Jesus, before we headed out to worship this morning, I found myself, not perusing fall boots online, but instead scrolling through the question/answer section on bettatalk.com.

Steve was away dropping Kyle off at camp and Joe left early for his mission trip, so Drew and I had some one on one time this morning going to church and to lunch and then heading into the pet store on our quest to save Blue Ridge from a trip down the toilet.  According to the salesperson, I had two options:  $5.00 vs. $20.00.  I'll let you figure out which one I chose.  We put 18 drops of BettaFix in the water this afternoon and will spend our week praying for complete healing and restoration of our beloved fish.

In the meantime, this is our first selfie of what will now be called "Drew and Mom Save the Fish" week.

Please note that this is my first selfie.  I am not adept at the duck face which was totally part of my plan because this is clearly an honorary fish face, not a duck face.

Now, please go light a candle or hit your knees for Blue Ridge because I don't want to go back and have that saleslady give me an "I told ya so" look when I throw that $20 Betta Fish medicine on the counter.