Oops

Two nights ago, Abby was cleaning out her fish bowl just before bed. I heard her call, "Mom! I think BlueGill is dying!!" I ran upstairs and, sure enough, BlueGill was bottoms up. I grabbed the bowl . . . and it was HOT. She'd replaced the water with very hot tap water -- and cooked her poor fish.

We tried our best to revive Mr. BlueGill, quickly putting him in cold water and rubbing his belly, but to no avail. I figured since none of us breathe water, mouth-to-mouth wouldn't have been very helpful.

Sadly, we're not big on seafood around here, so the poached delicacy was wasted on us. Not that we could have really eaten him anyway -- we weren't raised on a farm where you eat your pets. We're city kids.

Anyway, she's jockeying for a new pet, but this time, she's really gunning for a snake. That is so not going to happen.