I like fish. This year, when my daughter’s third birthday came rolling around, I decided that we should get her one. The girl is SWIMMING in toys, and it somehow seemed a little more memorable than another plastic space sucker, aka, a toy. I shared my genius idea with my husband who had a lot of feedback such as…
“We do not need a fish.”
“You are seriously going to put a huge bowl of water in a toddler’s room?”
“We do not need one more thing to worry about cleaning.”
“What are you going to do when it dies?”
But being the persistent lady that I am, I convinced him and maybe made some sort of a deal in the process, that a fish was a great idea, and she’d love it.
I quizzed the fish man at the pet store, listened carefully, bought a little tank, decided that all of the plugs and heaters WERE a little scary to keep in her room, returned it, talked to the fish man, bought a big bowl, and bought a fish. And proud little fish parents we were. She even named it after herself.
Well her birthday was in February, and yesterday I was super stealth and bought fish number three. The first one seemed destined to pass on to the great fish farm in the sky from the second it hit the bowl. It was a sinker and lasted a week. Fish number two seemed determined to starve itself to death and during it’s stay with us never even ate ONE fish flake. Fish number three is swimming around like Michael Phelps, and eats like he’s in a contest. I MIGHT have picked a winner.
She thinks she’s still staring at the original fish, although she has commented that the fish has gotten bigger. I haven’t had the courage to crush her little fish mommy spirit, so here’s the criteria…must be a Betta, must be blue, and I’m aiming for males as I hear they are a little heartier and we need all the help we can get.
Click here to learn about what recommended types of fish can live in a bowl. Good luck, and send your best wishes for fish number three. My husband’s still asking if it’s the last one…