Yesterday morning I had to break the news to Jude that Scary Fish died. You know how goldfish are, one day they're swimming around normally, looking fine, and then BAM! the next day they're "just resting" upside down underneath a plant. Whatever, that'll teach them to cost $2.
Actually, I wanted to tell him the day before yesterday but you can't bust out heavy concepts like DEATH right before bedtime. I'm pretty sure that's been ruled illegal in the Don't Fuck Up Your Kid Handbook so we shrugged our shoulders and waited. Waiting, as it turns out, also has other consequences like hey, what IS that smell? Oh right, it's that dead fish right there.
In the morning I couldn't put it off any longer and I took a knee and so I could level with the kid seriously about her status.
"Jude? I need to talk to you about Scary Fish. She's not looking so hot."
"Well she was sick, now she's dead."
'Get rid of that. Time for a new fish."
So I think that went ...well?