Little Boy & the Fish




Here is the sequel to “Old Man and the Sea” – “Little Boy and the Fish.” Sam has been really into having another pet lately, in addition to Louise the chubby grey kitty who has been around far longer than he has. Originally he wanted to have his very own “tagpole” (officially known as a “tadpole”) so he could watch it turn into a frog like he saw on his Amphibians-for-Kids video from the library. Thankfully they were fresh out of tagpoles at PetSmart. (And the bonus is I didn’t even have to bribe them to say that!) Before Sam realized that they did have plenty of real live frogs, I pointed towards the tanks and suggested, “How ’bout a FISH? Fish are soooo cool!” And what do you know, the smoke-screen defied the odds and worked like a charm, much to my surprise.

The clerk suggested a Betta fish instead of a goldfish because they can survive in a smaller bowl. Sign me, I mean, him up. She also suggested getting just one, and I was more than happy to start off with an “only fish” and take it from there. (I never really aspired for twins and still don’t.) Sam later informed me that if you put two Betta fish together, they fight. And what do you know, he was right! Gotta love those rockin’ science videos! It’s amazing how much information that sponge-like brain can hold when it’s not being filled with Sponge Bob.

“What’s his name?” the clerk asked.
“Peppier,” he responded. It was news to me.
“Oh, nice, that’s an unusual name!”
“Actually his name is Peppy!” he corrected himself.

Before I knew it, we were bringing Peppy the Fish on home, getting the poor thing acclimated to his new digs. We got his tank all set up, adding a couple of drops of something-or-other to the water, and Peppy zipped around the tank, enthusiastically checking out his new crib beyond the walls of PetSmart. Within an hour or two though, he was no longer quite so peppy. Oh noooo. Did I put in too many drops? Not enough drops? Did Sam slip an M & M in the tank while I wasn’t looking?

Pretty soon the Pepster was just aimlessly floating around — lifeless. I was trying to think of what to say about Death to a sheltered four-year-old. Sam just replied confidently, “He’s just sleeping.” Riiiiiiight, As Plan B I was wondering how late Pet Smart stays open so I could go pick up Peppy’s identical twin “Pepe” and switch them out after bedtime.

But no! Once again the four-year-old was right on the mark. Peppy really was just sleeping, taking some sort of mid-afternoon fish siesta. Phew! Welcome back, Peppy! Would you like a drop or two of caffeine to get you going?

Since Peppy had made a dramatic recovery, we now needed to head to Walmart to get a turkey baster to take Peppy’s, umm, poop out of the tank. (Hey, it wasn’t my idea — the clerk was quite adamant that it had to be done and she even recommended Walmart.) So we searched high and lo all over the Super-Duper Walmart and finally found one, a humungous turkey baster that could suck up Peppy himself, let alone any stray droppings. Oh well, it was going to have to do. Then we proceeded to hit the grocery area where I said I was going to “pick up a few things,” which turned into the usual overflowing cart scenario.

In the meantime Sam sure got our money’s worth out of that turkey baster. He used it as a sword, knocking over Cheez-Its, paper towels and other various and sundry items. It then became a machine gun shooting at other shoppers. (I had to remind him that shooting at other people, even with imaginary bullets, is quite rude.) Then the turkey baster was transformed into a mounted gun within the front of the grocery cart, sweeping back and forth ready to fire at any instant. (Buzzer sound. Stop that NOW! Also flagrantly impolite.) I think he also dropped it on the floor a few times, put it in his mouth, and God-only-knows what else. By the time we got it home, I didn’t have the heart to subject poor Peppy to that tainted baster. I figured he was far better off with the poop in his tank. The jury is still out on that one, but at least he is still alive!!!

Welcome to the family, Peppy!

LibbY

2 thoughts on “Little Boy & the Fish

  1. Peppy…..nice, prophetic.
    We named our lone fish Flush – not so nice, but oh so prophetic!
    Happy gazing at the new baby!
    Hoads

  2. I had a Beta named Linus during the summer after college graduation. Something happened to one of his fins and he could only swim in a circle. I really thought he was suffering, so I committed pesca-cide. Yeah, call PETA on me, I know, I know. . .

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