So long Bob the Fish; we barely knew ye.
Little Man made the discovery that his 38-cent Walmart goldfish was dead yesterday morning when he found ol’ Bob floating belly up. Fortunately he wasn’t upset about it, as they hadn’t had much time to bond, plus I warned him that the likelihood of a pet fish–from Walmart, no less–living long was unlikely.
“How long do you give Bob?” I asked my hubby on Sunday.
“Maybe a week?”
“At least three days,” I said.
Obviously we were both wrong. Bob the Fish lasted less than 24 hours. And no, LM wasn’t neglectful; he fed the fish an appropriate amount and didn’t shake the bag Bob left the store in (the latter is because I carried the bag to make sure no shaking occurred).
“Mom, can we take this fish back and get our money back?” Little Man asked me.
“Let’s not do that,” I said, not wanting to tote around a dead fish. “It was only 38 cents.” Thirty-eight cents isn’t worth testing Walmart’s Moneyback Guarantee.
“Okay,” LM said and went outside with the fish. I assumed he was going to bury it.
I assumed wrong.
Last night, before Little Man went to bed, my husband told our son that he was “disgusted” by what he found on our porch.
“What is it?” I asked.
“His yellow bucket.” LM uses his yellow bucket to keep the frogs and other bugs he finds. “That dead fish and two dead frogs were in the bucket.”
I, too, was disgusted.
“Just…why?” I asked. “Why didn’t you bury the fish? Why would you keep dead frogs?!”
Little Man looked at us like we were the crazy ones. “I wanted to see if they would come back alive, of course.”
“Once something’s dead, it doesn’t come back alive,” I said slowly.
“You said that Jesus was dead and came back alive,” Little Man said.
“Anyway, I was hoping that maybe they would turn into zombies. Or maybe vampires. There is a such thing as a vampire bat, you know. I could have a vampire frog or a vampire fish!”
“That’s not gonna happen.”
“It could. You never know.”
Can you imagine that–a zombie frog and a vampire fish? What a pair that would make.
We told him to dump out the dead animals and that he is no longer to keep any frogs in his bucket. We found out why the frogs died–he put two very tiny frogs in his bucket and attempted to feed them grasshoppers that were as big as the damn frogs. Poor things.
“Look, you don’t need to keep using that bucket to play with since it’s had all that dead stuff in it. Let’s use a new bucket to play with,” Sam told LM. “You can use the bucket when you clean up your dog’s poop out of the yard. Just dump it in the trash can.”
“Okay,” LM said. “I’ll wait until it gets full to dump it.”
“What?” Sam asked.
“I’ll pick up the poop and put it in the bucket and when it gets all the way full, I’ll dump it.”
“No…you are not keeping a bucket full of poop. Dump it out each time you clean up his area,” I said. I could just imagine–LM usually puts that bucket on a shelf on our front porch before he comes inside–bucket of poop on our front porch to greet our guests.
Sam looked equally horrified. “We don’t collect poop, son. Just put a Walmart bag in it and then throw it out each time.”
“You guys collect poop,” Little Man said. “You keep all of Baby Girl’s poopy diapers in that thing until it’s full and then you dump it in the trash can outside.” He is referring to our Diaper Genie. Not quite the same, but also not quite worth explaining.
What nasty things have your kids (or any kids you’ve cared for or know) done?