So, Olaf died

I am not a monster.

Now that I have that in print...on a blog...on the Internet...it must be true, right?

About two months ago my son came home from school with a snail.  What the hell I was going to do with a snail, I had no idea.  Well that is not entirely true, I knew that I would have to go to PetSmart, get a bowl, some rocks, some snail food, etc and I knew I would take care of it.  Beyond all of the normal stuff, I did not know what I was going to do with this thing.

My son named him light saber (I told you he loves Star Wars), I think I pronounced him dead about two hours after he was brought home.

The issue was since Luke had a pet snail, Avery wanted a pet fish.  I figured this would be a nice way to teach her some responsibility (I'm a moron).  Why I thought my six-year old son could not handle a snail, but my four-year old daughter could handle feeding a fish and cleaning its bowl I do not know (actually I do, I'm a moron).  She named him Olaf, she loves Frozen (Let it go, let it go...try getting that outta your head).

She was gung ho about feeding it for much longer than I thought she would be...seven minutes.  After that I fed the thing every morning and every night.  Olaf and I bonded.  She listened to my hopes and dreams, scolded me when I went off my diet and quietly applauded when I went to the gym...actually no she did not.  She was a fish, aka sushi (which I love).

I actually forgot about Olaf when I went on vacation.  I remembered to have Colby, the greatest dog of all time, taken care of, but I did not remember about Olaf.  Well I was gone for eight days...

...and that damn fish was still alive when I came home.  I do not know what it ate, but it was still alive judging me for all the diet breaking I did at the beach (Avalon rules!).

About a week after I got back, I walked into the kitchen and saw Avery (my blonde-haired blur) feeding the fish...and I mean FEEDING the fish.  We are talking about almost half of the fish food floating on top of the water. 

She was so happy that she finally remembered to feed the fish.  I told her that next time we should not give Olaf as much food.  She said ok...but alas, there would be no next time.

The kids went to their mom's house that afternoon, so it was I that found the little chalk outline in the tank the next morning.  Olaf was no more.

As I flushed the stinky maki roll down the toilet I was relieved, then I remembered I would have to tell the kids the fish died.  I dreaded that.

When I finally told them a week later, they lost it.  I knew they would be sad, but they really lost it.  As in cried...and cried...and cried...and asked why the fish had to die.

This entire sequence has taught me some valuable life lessons:

-Do NOT buy another fish...ever.
-Based on how much my kids cried after the fish dying, I hope Colby lives forever...and for that matter I hope I live forever too.

and finally...

-Seeing your kids suffer loss is the worst thing a parent can see.