The Perfect Mother Myth #1587

The Perfect Mother Plans Fish Funerals...

I'm the first to admit that I'm not exactly the "nurturing" type. I try really hard, but being compassionate and sensitive doesn't always come easy for me. I'm more of a "tough love"-"put on your big girl panties and deal with it" kind of parent. My kids will be the first to tell you that during any times of distress, they want their father...Not their mother, like you might expect. Does this make me proud? Not exactly...

Last night, my level of compassion was really tested. You see, London had a male betta (which is a fish in case you were wondering). As I was cleaning up dinner, she brings the bowl down to me and asks me to give it fresh water. I gave it a glance and a nod and agreed to get to it when I finished up dishes. I got distracted and moved onto another task, I turned around to see London giving the fish water out of the tap. Male Bettas (like most fish) will die from chlorine. I dropped what I was doing and ran to her and tried to "resuscitate" the fish by quickly netting it out and giving it distilled water. I was too late. The fish was belly-up (and in all honesty, I don't know if it was even alive to begin with. I have a hard time believing it died that quickly) and I very matter-of-factly told London it had died and then proceeded to flush it down the toilet while she watched. Sounds cruel, right?

Well, let me defend myself. Since 1987, my parents have owned a tropical fish wholesale business. Dead fish have been a part of my daily life for the past 24 years. Their warehouse holds something like 500 aquariums and thousands of varieties. If you walk into any Wal-Mart, Earl May, and some pet stores in a 6 state area, more than likely, it came from my parents' warehouse. So, you see...I'm not exactly the one you want when it comes to fish and death. The fish funeral crossed my mind the moment the fish descended down the hole.

On the flip side of this though...Through London's anguish and tears and grieving, she was able to put a call through to Grammy and order a new fish. "Blueberry" will be arriving next week. But the best part of all of this was when I heard London say through her slobbery hiccups, "Even though I'll love Blueberry, Mom. He still won't be the same as Larry Garry (the dead one)"....

While it may be just a fish to me, it did bring tears to my eyes to see that it meant more to London than that. It was a moment where my 5-year-old daughter taught me a lesson I'll never forget.