For some time now he's been rushing to his humidifier first thing each morning. He peers intently inside and declares, "My fish! He's in the hole! He's hiding!" Which, you know, he's not. You have no fish, kid, there's no fish in the hole. If there were a fish in that particular hole he'd be poofed through the mechanism into moisturizing air particles and I am opposed to fish vaporization, generally, unless it helps my skin glow. End point being, there's no fish in the humidifier. Swear.
After nap time I held out his jacket and he slid his arms in one by one. "Okay Jude, where are we going?" "The Fish Store." "Yes– and when we get there you get to pick out a fish, and it will come home to live with us, right?" "Right."
He pulled his hat down firmly, with purpose, over his ears and chirped happily out the door, "Fiiiiiiish store. Fiiiiiish store. Fiiiiiish store." Who can argue with that?! You'd have to be inhuman, and I myself am eminently human so I couldn't. Also, it was my idea. "Lets get the Jude a fish!" sounded super before someone reminded me that my carnival goldfish from second grade lived 10 years. Oh well. Whatever. I like fish. It could still die tomorrow or next month. Get out your calendars and place your bets.
He stood on his tiptoes and dashed from tank to tank. He was all a-quiver with FISH OH MY GOD FISH FISH OH MY GOD FISH. Finally Jon scooped him up and helped him pick out a little goldfish with a black fin. He watched quietly as the lady scooped it out and bagged it up. When he finally got to hold the bag he was very serious about his tender new charge.
Out of nowhere as we drove home he announced, "Her name Scary Fish."
I will tell you in complete honesty that even if she dies an untimely horrible death we have to explain later it will still be completely worth it because I walked in on him holding a piece of paper up to her bowl and shouting,
"Scary Fish! I make this picture for you's new house!"
If you need me, I'll be over here. #DEADFROMCUTE