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Sunday afternoon, Noah discovered that at some point Saturday night, or Sunday morning, his fish had died. He was devastated and spent a good hour trying to convince me it was all his fault. And I spent that same amount of time telling him that fish die- and that this one had a good run- a lot of them only live a few months. This was his first pet to die and he is still taking it hard. Just this morning, he came in the kitchen sniffling and said that he went to feed Phineas and remembered he wasn't there.
Noah didn't like the idea of flushing him. He wanted a proper burial. So, we all went outside in the freezing wind on Sunday, I dug a hole and placed the fish inside, covered him up and placed a brick on top. (to keep the wildlife from digging him up- but I told Noah to make it look like a real grave) DJ grabbed two wood scraps and made a cross.
RIP Phineas- faithful fish, loved by Noah.
2010-2012
**I am linking up today with Dumb Mom at parenting BY dummies- Wordful Wednesday
