Day 17: Fish

At the beginning of the summer, when the efforts to toilet train the Monkey were beginning, Ross had to go to Wal*Mart to purchase some steel toed boots. The Monkey accompanied his father on such an adventure and came home to pronounce the following.

"Mama, if I go pee-pee in the toilet, dad is going to buy me a fish from Wal*Mart!!!!!!!"

What?

Huh?

Bribery?

Don't get me wrong, I was all for anything that could help generate the motivation necessary to take a two year old from the comfort of peeing in his pants to the terror of peeing in the toilet, but a fish?

Ick!

You see, I don't do pets. No pets of any kind. I don't believe in them. They might be against my religion.

My sister and I had gold fish once when we were younger - her gold fish had something wrong with it and got covered in black spots and my two golf fish got cooked from being on the black stone fireplace with a little bit too much direct afternoon sunlight.

My husband once told me that he wanted a dog. I told him that if he got a dog, I got the Audi of my choice. We now have two kids - who needs a dog?

Anyway - my almost three year old monkey is a steel trap. He remembers everything. I mean it - EVERYTHING!

So, about a week and a half after figuring out how to pee in the porcelain throne, that kid of mine reminded his dad of the deal.

Luckily though, the fish didn't have to come from Wal*Mart.

Everyone, meet our fish. Cleverly named, wait for it....



Blue Fish.