And THIS is why parenting is so hard

About a year and a half ago Carter became the proud owner of a Betta fish. Our cat had recently run away, because he was a wild lion at heart and needed the freedom only the woods had to offer, we explained, but Carter was missing the companionship of having a pet to talk to, so a fish was the quickest, cheapest fix. We went and picked out a Betta fish ($2) and put him in a little glass bowl with some decorative rocks on the bottom that I had leftover from some crafty things I had done. Anyways, the fish lived happily for about a year until one day I found him floating on top of the water. Luckily, Carter was at school, so I removed everything without him having to see, and then gently broke the news to him when he got home. I really thought he would handle it well. He had done alright with the cat moving on and, after all, he was almost five years old! Not the case. He was distraught, completely. He loved his fish. So, the husband and I thought about it and decided we would give it another go, and this time we would go all out and make sure Carter's Betta fish had the greatest life- a set-up any Betta fish would die for... well, not die die, but you know.

So my sweet, nerdy, never-can-get-enough-knowledge-about-all-random-things husband researched Betta fish and their prime environments. Apparently, we purchase them in small, plastic cups and then at home transfer them to yet another small cup, this one hopefully a bit more permanent, because this is the type of environment they're found in. Bettas have a unique organ called the labyrinth which allows them to breathe our air, enabling them to live in low-oxygen settings such as rice patties, drainage tanks, or large puddles, and they just come up for a breath as needed. But just because they can live like that, do you think they absolutely should? Well we voted no. Our Carter's fish deserves a mansion, and a mansion he would get. I got permission to go out and purchase whatever would be necessary to create our idea of a Betta's prime environment. A trip to Petco and $85 dollars well spent later, Carter had a brand new King Crown-tailed Betta living it up in an aquatic mansion any Betta would envy. And Carter named him Glider.

Fast forward six months. Last Friday, December 11 to be exact. We have just recently moved into our new home and are settled enough for the rest of Sean's family to come over for dinner. I'm busy in the kitchen as a woman should be (haha, right?), so Carter greets the family at the door when they arrive and proceeds to give Gradnpa Ted "the tour" while I finish cooking. As Carter took Grandpa Ted into his room, he turned on his fishtank lamp for the sole purpose of introducing Grandpa Ted to Glider. They had never met. And there Glider was, floating sideways mid-tank. I heard the shrill cry from the bedroom and ran towards it. "Mommy, something's wrong with Glider! I think he's sick!" Grandpa Ted began, "Uh, I don't think he's sick, I think he's-" I quickly cut him off- he has no idea what we went through before. Oh no, come up with something, Kristin! "Ooh yah, you're right... I think he is sick. Seany will check him out when he gets home from work. Let's just close the door and leave him alone- no one likes to be bothered when they don't feel good." So we did. Later in the evening, while he was distracted by family fun, I snuck into Carter's room and removed the tank, hiding it in the garage. Before bedtime, we explained to Carter that we had Glider in our room so we could monitor him over night, and that the next morning we would take him to the doctor. After Carter went to sleep, Sean and I determined that Glider was in fact dead, then we had a proper burial... or, flush, and devised a plan.

Glider had to stay at the doctor for a couple days before he could come home. In the meantime, Carter had to go back to school, and so I got to work. Serious cleaning of the tank, new rocks, fresh plant life- now I just have to get the "replacement" Glider and put him in.

At the pet store I about had a nervous breakdown. No King Crowntail Bettas. They have regular Crowntail Bettas, but not King, which, believe it or not, makes a huge difference. My child is quite intelligent and has keen eyesight- he was going to notice. And even if he held neither of those attributes, he would still notice. It was just that bad. But I had to get one- Glider was coming home from the doctor TODAY! I called Sean and cried to him about it, and he thought maybe we should just tell Carter the truth. The truth? After all this, no way! I got home and, after acclimating him to his new environment for 15 minutes as suggested by the fish professional, I put Replacement Glider in his new home. He took off swimming bravely and swiftly around the plants and crossbones and sunken treasure chest. A sigh of relief.

On our way home from school, I told Carter I had some good news- Glider was home! After squeals of excitement and a celebration song, I told Carter that I had to warn him- Glider looks a little different. I explained that sometimes when fish get really sick, they don't eat, which causes them to lose weight, which can make them look much smaller. But that doesn't matter, because Glider's HEALTHY! We got home and Carter ran straight to his room to reunite with his dear pet. He said his tank looked clean, Glider looked happy, and "he sure did get smaller!"

I smiled and wanted to laugh and cry all at the same time. God, I love that precious little child. And I hate fish.