We Don’t Collect Poop

That Anxious Mom

So long Bob the Fish; we barely knew ye.

Little Man made the discovery that his 38-cent Walmart goldfish was dead yesterday morning when he found ol’ Bob floating belly up. Fortunately he wasn’t upset about it, as they hadn’t had much time to bond, plus I warned him that the likelihood of a pet fish–from Walmart, no less–living long was unlikely.

“How long do you give Bob?” I asked my hubby on Sunday.

“Maybe a week?”

“At least three days,” I said.

Obviously we were both wrong. Bob the Fish lasted less than 24 hours. And no, LM wasn’t neglectful; he fed the fish an appropriate amount and didn’t shake the bag Bob left the store in (the latter is because I carried the bag to make sure no shaking occurred).

“Mom, can we take this fish back and get our money back?” Little Man asked me.

“Let’s not do…

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