Dealing With the Death of a Fish

It’s been a wild ride, these last 5 days as the mother of a child with a pet fish.  But now I can provide the public service of sharing the dos and don’ts  of pet fish death.

Don’t:  Don’t plan to switch it out with a fish that looks nothing like the original fish.

Exhibit A:  Cooper 1

Exhibit B: Cooper 2, my replacement fish purchase

I told Dave via text, that if Jack noticed the new fish, just tell him Cooper had a growth spurt.  Dave said, “I thought our policy was not to lie.”  Well, ok, that actually sounds reasonable, but in my mind the only two options were to lie, or to have an elaborate funeral and at this point, I had already flushed Cooper 1.  (Side note, it was Saturday and Cooper had already been dead for 2 days.)

So I decided to go with Plan C and just not to say anything.    Now that it is Sunday, Cooper 2 is in his tank and acclimated, and I thought Jack should feed him.  Here’s how it went.

Jack: Is that a new fish.

Me: Yes

Jack: I liked the old one better.

And scene.

So, with the death of a fish, you could two ways.  One is to by a new fish and act like it’s no big deal.  Two, flush the fish, clean the tank, get rid of all evidence that there was ever a fish.  I might try option 2 next time, I’ll keep you posted.  I really like Cooper 2 though.

Beet It

Dave had the beet burger at the Kitchen Next Door this summer and said it was fantastic.  I am new to beets, and I don’t like hamburgers, so it wasn’t something I would think to order, but I did when my mom was in town this fall, mostly to freak her out.  Fantastic.  The beets are earthy, the goat cheese is strong, the arugula is perfect.  I am new to beets in the last 3 years, and the way I started to like them was roasted on a salad with goat cheese and pine nuts.  The beet burger is like that perfect salad, but you can eat it with your hands, it’s filling, satisfying, delicious.

When I say “I don’t like hamburgers”, I mean, well, let’s leave it at YUCK.  However, I do like the idea of hamburgers.  It would be nice to have a go to meal to order and 90% of all restaurants instead of always having to hem and haw and decide things.

So, imagine my excitement on Thursday when I saw a beet burger on the specials menu at the Southern Sun.  Beet! Burger!  Ok, I wasn’t that excited but I was intrigued.  Were they copying the Kitchen Next Door?  Was it an homage?  I asked the waiter if the beet burger was as good as the one at the Kitchen Next Door and he said I would have to tell him.  The beets didn’t have as strong of a flavor, but the sauce was really yummy.  Garlicky.  There appeared to be some pumpkin seeds in the beet burger, which I thought was interesting and added texture and flavor.  A decent amount of arugula.  The only thing I didn’t like was that when I took a bite, a bunch of chunks fell out in every direction.   But then I ate those pieces with a fork and cleaned my plate.  It was very good, a perfect size, delicious, filling.

I’m not sure which one was better, but I am excited to have the option of ordering beet burgers all over town.

 

 

The Fish is Dead, Long Live the Fish

Jack got a fish for his birthday.  That was on Tuesday.  It was alive yesterday, as far as I know.  Now I have to get a new fish and see if I can replace it before anyone notices.  If this doesn’t happen is less than a 48 hour period, does that mean that no one really cares about the fish anyway?

 

Jack and Jane

At dinner I had the makings of a great blog post in my head, but when I got home I got sidetracked.  I needed to make a grocery list for round one of Thanksgiving shopping, which meant I needed to plan the Thanksgiving menu, which means I needed to just surf the internet instead.

Over a year ago, I commented on a picture of my cousin (on facebook) when she was little, to say that she looked exactly like Jack.  Somehow that thread appeared in my news today, so I was forced to make this collage instead of accomplishing anything off my list.

 

Can you see a resemblance?

Baby Jack

A long time ago, I made Jack promise to never grow up, and to always be my baby.  He agreed for a while.  Eventually, I released him from his promise and he seemed pretty excited.  But today was just too much.  Four years old?

We ate the traditional birthday pizza snake, and this year he had root beer bundt cake.  Pictures are on my phone, which I left in his room.  Then at bedtime, he wanted to me to lay in bed with him and discuss his future.  Something about a lab and potions… I fell asleep while putting him to bed, because it is exhausting having a 4 year old.  And I may have celebrated with a glass or two of wine.

It’s my birthday too, yeah.

Note to Self

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I do a lot of mental landscaping of the yard.  I think about making lists of landscapers.  Sometimes I think about calling the landscapers and getting some estimates.  I think about reading magazine articles about planning gardens.  Sometimes I think about working in the garden.  But I wanted to make sure that I don’t think about digging up this bush, because it looks really pretty in the fall.  I mean, digging up the bush would be a lot of work, so it probably won’t happen.  But I want to make sure none of my imaginary landscapers do anything to it either.

 

Big Weekend

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Behold that carnage that is a 4 year old birthday party.  And by “birthday party” I mean, we let Jack invite two friends over.  I took this picture when Jack said, “Mama, I left my lego guy downstairs, can you please get it?”  And guess what, I found it!  Take that needle in a haystack.

In other news, sweet Lucy turned 2 today.  The posse of kids baked her a cake, and that was a big hit.  My milestone was that I finally accepted that Lucy is crazy, and that probably isn’t going to change.  So what?

Mystery, Solved

We had a big 20 hour mystery at our house, that was just solved.  In reverse chronological order, here is what happened.

5:00 pm: Mystery Solved, confirmed via txt.

8:00 am: Asked Luke for confirmation that my hunch was right.  He did not know what I was talking about.

7:00 am:  Woke up and thought, “duh.”

12:00 am:  Went to bed

11:50 pm: Posted a picture on facebook of the 1973 Ohio University Marching Men marching band record album that was the center of the mystery.  Stated that someone had snuck into my house and left it on the windowsill.

9:06 pm: Speculated wildly about who left the album.  And by “wildly” I mean, I assumed it was my friend Rob since he’s the only person I know that listens to records.

9:05 pm:  Said, “How did someone get in here to leave that on the windowsill?!  The door was locked!?  I wonder how long it’s been there.  I wonder how anyone could have gotten in.”

9:00 pm: Noticed the album on the windowsill!

8:55 pm:  Half-heartedly cleaned the kitchen, heartily mixed drinks.

8:50 pm:  Lost a race to our house, to our friends who drove.  Found them sitting at the kitchen counter having a drink.

8:45 pm:  Said, “I am trying to conjure up feelings of embarrassment about the state of the kitchen and the overall cleanliness of the house but I can’t.  If they beat us, maybe they’ll be cleaning the kitchen when we get there.”

8:20 pm:  Said, “We are stealing your daughter, you have Luke.   It’s a race to our house to play cards.  Bike vs. car.  See you there!”

Is that enough information to figure out the mystery, Encyclopedia Brown?  The real mystery is why I would say, “How could anyone get into our house?”  to two people who had been in my kitchen for 15 minutes before I got home.  Or why I would limit my ideas of who would have planted the record to “people who listen to records” instead of “people who play jokes” or “people who are in my house.”

Good one, MacBrides!