April 18, 2007

Sir John (RIP)

On Saturday night, when getting ready for bed, Paige looked over at the fish bowl on top of the bookshelf, across from her top bunk and said, "Mommy, I don't think Sir John feels good." Sir John is the name Paige gave to her beta fish. We have not been allowed to say we are a family of four for the last year and some. Paige insists we are a family of six because we have Tasha, our dog, and Sir John, her fish, to be included as well. In fact, Paige was right when she looked over to Sir John as she does every night. He died Saturday night. Brooke looked at the fish bowl and said, "Oh, um, honey, I think Sir John has died." I have not seen Paige that sad in a long time. "He was my best friend," she moaned. Brooke and I held back our chuckles and tried our best to feel her pain. With Matt consoling her, repeating, "Sissy, when I grow up, I'll buy you a new fish" I lifted the toilet seat to do my fatherly duty with the fish. And then Paige wailed, "I don't want another pet, 'cause everything always dies!" If this last year hadn't been so full of dying it probably would have felt as comical as it really was. But we are in fact quoting the band Refused in our hearts these days: "We're all tired of dying!!!"

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