05.18.06
What do you do with a bright, energetic, creative, strong-willed almost-three year old daughter on the twelfth rainy day in a row?
Truly a nightmarish dilemma, one to which many Duluthians can probably relate.
Every movie we own is now irritating and boring.
Well except that one, which has become truly, truly aggravating. Whatever possessed the British-born Wiggles to attempt to make an American Cowboy movie for children? And whatever possessed Mommy to buy it? Oh yeah, the cowboy phase we went through a few months ago. That’s right, I remember now. It was a few minutes before the Dora the Explorer phase.
During the rainy period my Little Miss announced that our dog is not an animal, but rather a “pet.” And that she wanted a pet of her very own.
“Jazz is your pet, Sweetie.”
“No, Mom, Jazz is the family pet. I need a pet of my very own.”
“What sort of pet do you want?”
“Turtle. Like at the zoo.”
Ooh, turtle. Umm… Mom accesses mental turtle database… salmonella carrier… lifespan up to 40 years in captivity…
“Ah, Miss, maybe a goldfish would be better.”
“Yes, I want a goldfish. An orange one.”
Whew. That was easy enough. “Okay, we’ll talk to Daddy.”
She asks Daddy for a goldfish one evening while I am at work. So now Daddy thinks the whole fish thing is basically his idea, and he’s elevated himself to Super Daddy status once again. He tells her he’ll take her to get a goldfish on Saturday.
Wednesday… Friday… I laughed to listen to her tell me, “I get my goldfish on Saturday,” because she has no idea when Saturday is.
Or does she?
Saturday mornings we always watch Signing Time together, which is a fantastic show on PBS that teaches American Sign Language. This week we learned to sign “stop” and “go,” and how to play an ASL version of Red Light, Green Light. Afterward my sweet darling said, “Today is Saturday. I need to get my goldfish now.”
I am constantly amazed at how smart an almost-three-year old can be.
When Daddy woke up my Little Miss said, “It’s Saturday, Dad!” told him “We need to get my goldfish,” and sang the “Dad is Great” song. Wait, I think he sang the “Dad is Great” song. Yeah, that sounds about right.
Aqua Hut here we come. We walk in and a gal asks if we need help. “I need a goldfish!” Little Miss says.
As we walk toward the tanks of fish the gal asks her, “What color goldfish do you want? Do you want a black one, or maybe a spotted one?”
My girl stops walking and looks up at the lady, “An orange one,” and she says it like she’s wondering what the lady can possibly be thinking. Nobody’s pulling one over on this girl, I tell ya.
She picks an orange fish. I tell her to pick another one, and she doesn’t quite know what to think of that. “I get TWO fishes, Mom? Two fishes? For me?”
Then she gets to pick out a bowl, purple and orange aquarium rocks, and a tree.
At home we set everything up according to instruction and after a little bit my girl has two fishes swimming in a fishbowl.
She is enthralled. She asks, “What’s their names, Mom?”
“Igor and Camille,” I say, thinking I’m making a joke. “Or Bosco and Bob. Flotsam and Jetsam. Flim and Flam.”
“Igor and ‘Mille,” she says, very serious. And so the fish have names.
For the next three days the fish go everywhere she goes. “Put my fish in the front room, Mom.” At naptime, “Put the fish on my shelf mom.” In the morning, “Fish downstairs, too, Mom.” For three days she stares into the bowl, and gives me the blow by blow, “My fishes are swimmin’ in the water. Come quick! My fishes are eating!”
Every few hours I am relieved to find both fish alive. They’re swimming, they’re eating, it’s all good. I’m pretty impressed. Generally if something can’t cry for food around here it doesn’t last long. But we’ve kept two fish alive for three days running.
Sometimes rainy days are tough. Sometimes a couple of goldfish are like sunshine.
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