We have a goldfish. His name is Zero.
He swims peacefully in his tank most of the time, unnoticed by our exuberant girl. The closest she usually comes to the tank is running by on her way…somewhere. Because this little girl always has somewhere she needs to get to, fast.
Enter Disney and the adorable Finding Nemo. It is on Veronica’s current rotation of movies.
Veronica came into the room the other night with her fish net, an item purloined from among my youngest brothers’ old toys. She said something to me, but I was attending to Jacinta and gave one of the “Yes, yes dear” kind of responses. The sound of a shifting chair didn’t really grab my attention, either.
Paul came around the corner at that moment to see Veronica standing on a chair next to the fish tank, net poised above the hapless Zero, ready to strike.
“Veronica, you cannot put anything in the fish tank! You know you are not supposed to touch the fish tank.”
“But he needs to go back to the ocean!”
Now Zero is clearly not a clownfish (though he is orange and white), but in Veronica’s mind he was obviously a captive fish in need of rescue.
Never mind that there is nothing remotely resembling an ocean around here.
I seriously hope she wasn’t thinking of flushing him down the toilet.
Veronica, my dear…all drains do NOT lead to the ocean. Trust me on this.