Boys Vs. Girls

Over the Christmas holiday, I had a discussion with my sister-in-law about death. Specifically, about animal death. More specifically, how kids respond to the death of a pet.

See, Red fish had been acting a little, well, LETHARGIC for a fish. And I was worrying about The Babe's reaction to the eventuality that one of our pets was potentially going to the big fish tank in the sky sometime within a few days.

Seems my niece about lost her mind when her betta died. Caused life to stop, sub-7am on a school morning, to have a FUNERAL in the backyard, with Daddy officiating and a live, box coffin for the fish.

"Great", I thought, "This is his favorite cousin, who loves animals like The Babe does. He is going to have a FIT."

When we arrived home the next day, I thought Red was leaving our cozy home within a few hours. His breathing was labored and he was kind of laying sideways in the tank. Not dead, just looking really, really relaxed for a fish.

As The Babe was standing in the kitchen when I noticed this, I called him over and, as gently as possible, told him I thought Red was probably going to die sometime pretty soon.

His eyes got really big and he said "Really?"

And, I thought, "Oh no. Here it comes. Brace for it. Get ready to hug him and cry."

And then The Babe said, with a smile on his face "Does that mean we get to FLUSH HIM?"

There are no words to describe my relief. I responded affirmatively, following up with "Would YOU like to flush him?" He nodded yes enthusiastically.

Fast forward to this morning. December 29th, to be exact. I had cleaned Red's tank, thinking that cleaner water might help his breathing, so I was anxious to see how much it had helped.

Clearly, Red had moved on to another place.* Or, I'm really, super-lame at balancing the water with those water conditioning drops. Either way, I was staring at a floater.

I had a moment where I wondered if the reality of a dead fish was going to change The Babe's tune.

NOPE. Not one bit. He gladly took the tank, dropped Red into the bowl, and gave the toilet handle a spin.

I couldn't see his face during execution of "Project Fish Flush", but I know there were no tears.

Once again I was reminded that, when God chose Mike for me, He knew that boys were in my future. He knew that I was better equipped to handle broken bones and stitches and farting than broken hearts and crafts and ballet.

He knew what He was doing when he made Casa De Nowell testosterone heavy.


*Hopefully one where his owners remember to feed him regularly and clean his tank before green mold appears on the sides. In other words, a better place than the Nowells provided.