The other day I was standing in the kitchen when Ethan came in and said, "Dad, I had a great idea. I can get my money and we can give it to the lady at the fish store and get a fish."
He kept working on us for a fews and we finally agreed. On Saturday we planned our fish-buying trip. Ethan found a five dollar bill in his room and held it in his hand all day. Sixty dollars later we were set up with a 2.5 gallon fish setup. We bought some of those "sunburst" fish. The kids named them Sunbeam, Seahorsey and Cursy (the cursin' fish, I call it). When I woke up on Sunday morning one of them was already dead. I still haven't learned which fish is which.
Who would have thought that pooped-on rocks cost more than clean rocks? The fish were listed at $3.50 each. Wouldn't it be nice if the reality was that simple?