Confession

I just read this: http://thewomenscolony.com/family-room/2009/4/19/feather-by-elizabeth-segrist.html over at the Colony and decided I had better come clean about a family pet situation of my own.

These pets:

We had them when we were living at Nana's. Remember, I was only six or so at the time. I think Lauren really wanted a dog, but mom got us each a fish instead. Mine was smaller and had more black on it. Lauren's was bigger and orange, it was also slow. I really wanted to have a pet I could PET, right? So... I tried to take my fish out to pet it. Now, I knew this was wrong and it couldn't breathe, but I vowed it would only be just this once. And I would only take it out and pet it a few seconds, then I would dump it back in...



Well, I stuck my hand into that fish bowl and tried to catch my small, dark, very fast little fish. And couldn't catch him. Lauren's fish, however, was large, bright, and slow... I proceeded to cuddle him a little, and drop him back in. For about three weeks. I even *dare I say it* BRUSHED the poor fellow with a comb. Which pretty much consisted of me setting the fish on the comb and dumping him back in. Now that I think about it, it was probably Nana's HAIR comb... I really hope you are laughing and not having some other reaction...

Anyway, I don't know if you remember how this story ended. Lauren's fish came to a comparatively speedy demise. I know it is mostly my fault, but he didn't die in my arms, he died while I was out. I even tried petting my fish after Lauren's was gone, but he was too darn fast to catch and lived an annoyingly long fish life.

And that is that. Lauren, I am sorry for killing your fish. Whew. Glad to get that one off my chest.