Along back in April, we had a 5th birthday party for S. The theme was 'The Little Mermaid.' My mother asked if she could give S. a betta fish as a present. I told her it was okay, thinking we'd pretty much ignore the thing while it sat there and did nothing.
Mom brought us Freddie (or is it Freddy, S. can't spell just yet). Freddie is blue with red fins, and Freddie is neurotic. The little guy sits in his glass bowl in the center of our kitchen table. We have dinner with Freddie usually six days a week, as well as most breakfasts and lunches on the weekends. The thing is, Freddie just about poops himself anytime someone moves, makes a sound, looks at him cross-eyed, etc. If we didn't have a cover over his bowl, I'm certain he'd have done the belly-flop of death out of his bowl and onto our kitchen table by now.
His glass house has one of those big leafy plants sitting on top with the roots going into the water. Freddie frequently gets himself tangled up in the roots and then thrashes around until he comes zipping out toward the bottom of the bowl. I don't know, maybe the fish needs a valium... and I need to sleep.
M.W.
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