I’ve had to write several bios lately (for book related shenanigans) and I absolutely hate writing them. Anyway, my bio usually ends with “she also has a fish but usually leaves him out of bios” which I like saying because it is half true. I do have a fish.
Let me tell you the story of Crappy Fish…
It is early in the morning and I need to feed the cats. However, we are out of cat food. If you have pets you know what a catastrophe this is. It isn’t that they will starve and die if their breakfast is delayed. It is that they will act like they will starve and die. Loudly. Annoyingly.
So Crappy Papa and Crappy Boy offer to go to the pet store to get cat food.
Several minutes later, I receive a text from Crappy Papa:
They got a fish. A new pet. Because clearly, when you can’t remember to buy food for the pets you have, you should get another one. Great idea.
He tells me that it is a betta and that Crappy Boy picked it out. And that Crappy Boy will take care of it with Crappy Papa’s help. (Notice the bold. That is important later.)
Have you seen betta fish? They are stunning. Flowy and beautiful and colorful and vibrant. Here are some pictures of them.
So imagine my disappointment when they present me with:
The ugliest fish ever.
He has a grumpy face, a scar on his side and his whole body is crooked. His fins are stringy and busted up from fin rot. This is one seriously ugly fish.
There were a number of lovely fish to choose from at the store. But Crappy Boy picked this one. He is the pathetic Charlie Brown Christmas tree version of a fish.
He won’t last more than a week.
I had goldfish as a kid. I’d win them at the county fair by throwing a ping pong ball into a fishbowl. I’d proudly carry him around in a plastic sandwich baggie tied at the end. If he was still alive by the time we got home, I’d put him in a little fishbowl and start making preparations for the inevitable fish funeral. They never lasted more than day or two. One year though, one very special goldfish lasted a whole ten days. I buried him under an oak tree in an empty box that my mom’s checks came in. I even included a handmade toilet paper cushion.
Sigh. Fish will just break your heart. I prepared for the worst. Will the boys want to bury him or flush him?
Over the next couple of days, we learned all about Betta fish and how to care for them and we got a tank and a filter and a heater and other fancy fishy accessories. Even though I didn’t expect him to last, I wanted to give him the best shot.
That part was all really nice.
As was this:
True to their word, Crappy Papa and Crappy Boy took care of Crappy Fish.
Then they didn’t.
And this happened:
Somehow, he became my ugly fish. And this is why I leave him out of bios.
Notice the # of days on there? It is Crappy Fish’s 2nd birthday this month. He has lasted for two years! He is healthy and happy and ugly as hell.