Rest in Peace Mike the Fish

Alas, Mike succumbed to whatever random Betta disease he had. We spent more money trying to treat this fish than we actually spent on the fish. Mike came to us by accident sort of. Jacob had won a goldfish at the fair back in early September. He had just ridden a horse named Ike, so he named the fish Mike. Made sense I guess. That night, Mike the First died. Fair fish seem to go two ways- they live forever or die the instant your kid grows attached.

After Mike I's tragic death, I did the one thing I swore I'd never do- I replaced my kid's pet without him knowing. Here's the worst part, I replaced it with a fish that looked nothing like the original Mike, then I lied through my teeth. Jacob came home from daycare and said "hey, where's the orange fish?" I did some quick thinking and said "Oh, he turned purple over night! It must have been the water!" I am a liar. A dirty, rotten liar. My kid bought it, sort of. He continued to ask if Mike was going to return to his original orange color, but he seemed content to believe this was the fish he won.

Mike was a happy, well-adjusted fish right up until my mom broke her leg. I swear the fish missed seeing her every day. He got sicker and sicker. We tried all sorts of drops, treatments, and even frozen peas. But this morning, Mike was belly up. I chose not to lie to my kid this time. He had gone through my grandfather's death recently and sadly has a firmer grasp on what it means to die than I ever wanted my child to have at the age of 3.5. We said goodbye to Mike and flushed him down the toilet. Then Jacob turned and looked at me, with those big blue eyes, and sweetly said "Can we get an orange one now?"