As I mentioned in the previous post, we have a new pet.
It's a goldfish named "Jumper." (First it was Freddie, then Scaley, and now Jumper.)
I'd like to let you in on how he got his name:
We pedaled back from Family Fun Night on Friday and I was pleased as punch to have this new thing in our family (do you sense the sarcasm?). The girls were ecstatic. We found a big bowl to put him in and the girls hauled out the jumbo roll of saran wrap wanting to put some on top so he wouldn't jump out. I assured them that goldfish do not jump and he'd be just fine in his new, nifty home.
The girls daydreamed for a little bit before bed...they got his birthday all planned out: We would have fish food and pea cake (we looked up on-line what to feed a goldfish if you don't happen to have goldfish food on hand and peas was the answer). The birthday celebration would be on May 11th.
I had the urge to suggest an earlier date...like the next day...because we all know goldfish don't stick around long (especially when living on peas), but I held my tongue and let them live in their dreamland.
Then I somehow cajoled my reluctant girls up to tuck them in bed.
I sent Claire down a little later to put Lu's diaper in the outside trash and as soon as she got down the stairs she started screeching in desperation (have I mentioned before that drama is one of our family fortes?) Freddie/Scaley was gone! I came down to see that sure enough, that sneaky fish had jumped right out of that bowl placed safely at least one foot in on the counter and was flipping around on the floor below.
At that moment everyone started howling and talking at once. I begged Grace to pick the darn thing up because, I assured her, she is surely my bravest child (I sure as heck wasn't going to do it!). That didn't work. Grace was as scared as I was (yes, of a dying goldfish). So Claire jumped in to suggest picking it up with a spoon, which I finally did. (Basically I totally saved the day...after I freaked out and after my six-year-old told me how to do it.)
We got the fish back in the bowl and discovered, with a sigh of relief, that his gills were still moving and tail was still swishing. He was instantly dubbed as "Jumper."
We decided to go ahead with the saran wrap after all.
I warned the girls that goldfish don't live long, especially after being exposed to the floor for who knows how long.
But I'm here to say Jumper is still alive and well...four whole days later! Each morning the girls come down and exclaim "he's still alive!" in glee.
He even made it to his first birthday for crying out loud!
Oh man these kids sure adore pets.
Some day we'll give in and get that dog. But first let's see how long Jumper lasts.
And then there are those four stray kittens who showed up in our back yard this morning...