The Life of Brian

We had a recent death in the family.

Brian.

There is no telling how long his life really was.
We had him for 7 days.
Seven glorious days.

The kids had been begging for a fish for nothing short of forever.
I don't really do fish.
But they wore me down. Plus, it was only $3.47.

So I decided Brian would be playing the role of the hermit crab this summer.
Last year I rescued the actual pet hermit crab from both the Easy Bake Oven AND the baseboard heater.
It might smell funny but at least a fish can't crawl away.

My oldest named him.
My youngest wanted to take him swimming at Grammy and Pop-Pop's pool.

I will say this:
Keeping a 3-year-old's hands and arms out of a fishbowl is, um, impossible.

He ate.
And swam.
And skirted little fingers trying to "pet" him.

On Tuesday, we went to beach and left Brian home.
Wednesday morning, when my oldest went to feed him, she discovered he had passed away.

Shock, horror and mayhem resulted.
Total hysteria.

A few kind words.
Thoughts on how much we loved Brian.
She insisted on doing the flushing because "she loved him the most".

The kids thought Brian must have been somehow upset and threw himself under a rock.
Then they decided he had become trapped under the rock - in some sort of fishbowl avalanche.

It took a considerable amount of explaining to get them to understand he must have been sick, then died, then slid under the rock that he was squished beneath in the bowl.

And now there is Jake.
He is still alive.
But it has only been 2 days.