I told my daughter that I didn't know what to write about tonight
as she sat at the table eating a slice of red velvet cake she cut
herself. She said I should write about the fish she's getting this
weekend and how excited she is about that. I would like to say that I,
too, am excited. But we have two kids, two dogs, a bird and now fish? I
really don't think I can bear one more creature to whom I am beholden.
My partner tells me that my daughter will take care of them. Have you ever seen a seven-year-old effectively clean a fish tank? Me neither. I say I will have nothing to do with the fish. I have to lay down the law, be firm, set expectations.
The thing is, I like fish. I've kind of always wanted fish. I find them beautiful and relaxing. I am a water Leo, liking the sun ever so much more when there is water nearby, feeling truly content in the dark of a winter rainstorm. So fish make sense to me.
But time passes quickly. One moment they will be new, in a
pristine environment. The next it will be filled with murky water and
algae and where will she be then, the parent who said yes to the fish?
A friend's family had fish they brought home after the end of the
third grade "creeks and rivers" unit. Those fish lasted for two years and
had lots of new little fish. Then his family went on vacation and the
aquarium bulb got too hot. They came home to fish stew. I wonder who cleaned out the tank.
One problem, among others, with this scenario is that being right won't get me anywhere. Being right means I will end up cleaning the fish tank because no one else will get around to it soon enough. Do not envy me tonight.
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