I know you all must be terribly curious…what happened with the fish?
I ventured out in the heat and laid my hands on a new Paprika.
But: Based on how the previous 18 hours had gone, I selected him based on his alertness and swimming abilities. This meant that although he was the same color, he was more svelte than the original. Given Miss M’s visual acuity, I was afraid she’d notice.
So I told them. Neither seemed particularly upset, though AM kept asking why he died–and I honestly had no idea. I explained that these kinds of fish don’t live very long; or that he might have been sick and we didn’t know.
The one thing I didn’t answer…what happened to his body. I was afraid that Miss M wouldn’t use the hall toilet again.
Lest you fear I am being a tad dramatic, long-time readers might recall Miss M’s fear of pooping on the toilet, followed by her fear of automatic flush toilets (how to inject excitement into every trip away from home!). Her current toilet fear is the little deodorizing packages that hang inside the toilet bowl and turn the water blue. This can be extra fun while at someone’s home. “Oh, yes, that’s the sound of my six year old screaming and peeing on herself rather than using your toilet.”
So, no, I didn’t want to explain where I put him. I honestly offered to have a discussion about what happens to things after they die rather than spell out where this fish had gone. Thankfully, it was 9 at night and nobody was perky enough to take me up on it.
Both kids are very concerned with letting the other family know, asking me to call them in America and tell them what happened. But that seems just a tad excessive for a five-dollar fish. When they return home is fine.