In which I purchase a future tragedy

“Need fish,” Kai said. We were at Petco, looking at (what else?) the fish. The excursion had been Kai’s idea.

“Oh, honey, we’re not going to buy a fish today,” I said. And I meant it. We were on our way to occupational therapy, followed by speech. Plus, when it comes to things like this, I always picture Scott in my head, knowing exactly what he would say: What, we’re going to have a bunch of fish now? It’s the same reaction he gave in my head when I came close to buying a home sushi kit: What, we’re going to make our own sushi now? Or when I tried to cut meat out of our diet for a while: What, we’re going to be vegans now?

I wasn’t opposed to fish, per se, but I wasn’t prepared to buy a fish like right now.

“Let’s see if the guy has a book about fish,” I said. “We’ll do some research first.”

Kai looked up at me.

“Let’s ask the guy.”

So Kai made a beeline for the fish guy. “Oh, guy!” he called out.

We found him cleaning a rodent tank. He looked exactly like Buffalo Bill.

You don't know what pain is! Also, the bettas are on sale.

“Excuse me, guy,” Kai said. “I need a fish.”

Buffalo Bill stood up.

“It’s this way,” Kai said.

I sighed as Bill and Kai began to discuss which of the bettas on display in plastic deli containers he liked the best.

“This one?” Bill asked, pulling out an electric blue fish.

“No, too blue.”

Bill chose a different one, a red one with elaborate fins. “This one?” he asked.

“Too big.”

“Well which one do you like?” Bill asked.

Kai examined all the fish carefully.

“This one!” Kai exclaimed. The fish was hideous, a pale, translucent thing with bluish markings that look like they might be the fish’s internal organs.

“Aw, he’s so cute!” Kai said happily, holding up the fish so he could get a better look.

Why wasn’t I stopping this? Our little fish-gazing expedition was coming off the rails fast.

“Need fish food,” Kai said to Bill, and they went down the aisle together. They picked out some betta food, a Spongebob figurine for the bowl and some rocks for the bottom that looked like precious gems if you’re five years old.

Any ideas I’d had about putting the kibosh on the whole fish idea were gone. I picked up a glass bowl from the display and handed it to Bill.

“What are you going to name your fish?” I asked.

“Hammie,” Kai replied.

“What?” I asked. “Hammie?”

“Bamy.”

“Bamy?”

He mumbled something unintelligible.

“How about Henry?” I suggested.

“Henry Fish!” Kai exclaimed.

And so it came to pass that, 37 dollars later, Henry Fish came home to live with the Judys. It was not long after I got home that I discovered several lies that Bill told me, including the lifespan of the fish and the number of times I would have to clean his bowl. Once a week indeed.

Once we had Henry situated in his new bowl, amid his new friend Spongebob and glittery fish treasure, Kai fed him some Kix.

“Here you go, Henry!” Kai said.

:::

Scott was home for about a half hour before he commented on Henry. “Where did we get this fish?”

“At the store,” I said, perhaps a little defensively.

“So what, we have a fish now?” he asked.

I sighed. How could I explain how cute it was to watch Kai shop for this fish? Or how amazing that he can do something like that without me to translate or intervene? And anyway, who else was going to love this ugly-ass fish in the world’s tackiest bowl?

Later, Kai tried to feed Henry, dumping out a heap of fish food, but somehow missing the bowl. I’m pretty sure Henry isn’t long for this world anyway.

And so yes. We have a fish now.

Comments

[helen]

love this

[Jean Heniff]

Love love love !!!your blog is great!!! You and Kai are a terrific team! From a mom who has cleaned many fish tanks!!! You go girl!!! When's the dog coming?

[Megan]

Ha! Already have a dog! He doesn't like the kids much, except what they leave under the table :) Thanks for your kind words, and let me know if you're available to clean Henry's, LOL!