Fish fiasco

A few months ago the girls each brought home a goldfish from primary. Each child in the class had been given a fish, but most of the other kids fish died within the first few weeks of recieving them. I was taking great pride in the fact that our fish had outlasted the others. Well, on Mother's Day my sister came for a visit. I was upstairs chatting away with Angie while Jade and Whitaker went down to play with Alyssa and Holly. At one point we noticed that things were awfully quiet downstairs, never a good sign with kids, but we just continued with our enjoyable conversation. After a time we decided it was time to go check on the kids. I quickly noticed that something wasn't quite right. The kids had dumped out a large bin, previously full of ring pops, and had dumped both fish into the larger bin. As I was putting them back in their separate jars I noticed that the fish weren't acting quite right...to make a long story short...After being tortured and traumatized by 8 tiny little hands, goldy fish gave up her will to live. She is survived by her best friend Whitie, who underwent the same traumatic experience but somehow courageously survived the ordeal.

The next morning when the kids got up I informed them of our loss. We took Goldie into the bathroom and stood around the toilet. Alyssa looked at Holly and said, "You have to say something nice and then say goodbye." Without muttering a word, Holly dumped Goldie into the toilet and flushed. Alyssa immediately ran to the couch, pulled her blanky over her head and bawled.

I am happy to report, however, that Whitie is still alive and has outlived all the other fish in the class.