When One and Two were children, they wanted a pet. Of course, I knew who would end up taking care of it, so I vociferously fought the notion. I finally relented (a mom can take only so much hounding) and told the children I would get each of them a goldfish. If they demonstrated they were capable of providing for another creature, then we would have the furry pet discussion.
As I knew it would, cleaning the fish bowl became a more odious task for them as the weeks passed. Two's bowl always had a telltale ring of scum, but the intrepid fish hung on. One day I discovered One's fish floating on the surface. I flushed away the evidence, cleaned the bowl and prepared a comforting speech on fish death. I worried how the new pet owners would take this bit of news, but I was quite relieved when they were unshaken. After explaining the fish's demise, Two piped up, "Can I flush my fish, too? I'm tired of taking care of it."
Well, only after signing up for this blog did I discover that your blog NEVER DIES. It is out there in perpetuity. I will be taking care of this little pet for the rest of my life! Please excuse me if I sometimes forget to change the water.