Generally, I tend to avoid Walmart. But I recently found myself walking through the scuffed, florescent aisles in search of Junie B. Jones the Second.
For those of you who are confused, Junie B. Jones is my daughter's fish. WAS my daughter's fish. I noticed him, (yes, him. The gender didn't sway her opinion on the name.) floating at the top of the water that hadn't been changed, in, oh, maybe a little bit longer than was healthy. Luckily, the water was murky and the girls were about to head off to bed and didn't notice.
My husband's vote was to tell the the truth. Their first pet was dead. And then let them deal with it. A part of me agreed. But the part of me that was preparing for an insanely busy week couldn't stomach the thought of two little girls mourning the loss on top of everything else.
So, off to Walmart I went. I peered in the plastic cups of Beta fish, looking for a match. The closest one I found had the same color of body, but instead of a red tail it has a turquoise one. As I walked to the check out I thought of all the different explanations I could give to the question: Why did his fin change color?
*Well, sometimes that happens.
*Maybe when fish get older they change color.
*Maybe his food is making him change color.
The next morning I found my daughter peering into the the fish bowl curiously. I steeled myself for the inevitable.
"Mom! Guess what? My fish changed color! Isn't that cool!"
I love the way a seven year old brain works.