I haven't figured this out yet . . .
I’m sad to report that it looks like Jupiter, our beloved fish, won’t last the night. I did mention yesterday what poor luck my family has with pets, and another one bites the dust . . . or water.
A little part of me cried on the inside as I told G to say goodnight to Jupiter for the last time, G being completely unaware that his new pet is about to expire.
Did I forget to mention G loves his fish. He talks to it, says good morning and good night, wishes it a nice day when he leaves for school, and occasionally asks it how it’s doing. I know it’s just a fish, and the level of sadness associated with it’s death is irrational, but I just don’t want to think about the sad look on G’s face and the heartbroken inflection in his voice when he’s told his fish is dead.
We’re considering the old replacement pet ploy so G doesn’t have to know. It’s only been a week for crying out loud. But that’s the problem with pets, they eventually die on you.