Mr. T

We have a goldfish. His name is Mr. T. Mr. T is a pretty important part of our family. He's been with us now for about two and a half years.

Let's step back in time: Matthew's just turned 8 and we are attending our very first Cub Scout Blue and Gold Banquet. It's a Hawaiin theme and the ward gym is decorated for a Luau -- floweredy Hawaiin shirts, pineapples, etc. So great! On each table is a centerpiece...look a little closer... they are glass bowls with little goldfish swimming in them. I think, "Oh, please don't send those home with the boys. I don't want a goldfish." Skip ahead about and hour and a half. We are leaving the banquet (that was wonderful) with Matthew happily clutching a plastic bag full of water -- and goldfish.

After spending a night in a Tupperware, Matt's new fish was moved into the newly purchased fish bowl - complete with blue marbley rocks. Thanks to some careful deliberation and a book from the library, the little fishy also received a name: Sushi. I sure love happy endings, but sadly, this portion of our story isn't so happy. A week later, Sushi entered her watery porcelain grave. There is always a silver lining, however. Our silver lining was called Grandma. She was here visiting when we found Sushi floating and quickly eased Matt's grief by giving him five bucks to go buy a new fish. :) Off to PetsMart. Matthew picked a cute little guy and was a happy camper with his new fish and the $4.65 change in his pocket. This new fish had a black stripe on his head which looked a lot like a mohawk, so Matt named fish #2 Mr. T.
Mr. T has now, as I said before, been a part of our family for over two and a half years. We've had a few scares: a big red mark that has mysteriously appeared on his nose a few times and then goes away. (The worker at the pet store - yes, I actually called the pet store over a fish- said the medicine to correct the problem costs $10. For a $.35 fish... Nope, didn't buy it.) His black stripe faded and is now gone. (I swear it's the same fish). The biggie happened on the day we brought Bailey home from the hospital, though. We got home and mohawkless Mr. T was floating...on his side...not moving at all. Being emotional and hugely hormonal, I started crying (can't believe I'm admitting this) and told Steve to get it over with and flush him. He was dead. I kind of have a phobia of dead things and just wanted him gone. Steve kept staring at him and then told me that he thought we should try changing his water. There was no way I was going to touch a dead fish and change his dead germ water! But, c'mon, it's Mr. T!! So, sobbing, I cleaned his bowl and changed the water. As I scooped his lifeless body up with the little fishy net and dropped him back in the bowl, the darnedest thing on earth happend - he started swimming! I swear it on all the Diet Coke in North America. The dad blamed thing was alive and swimming rather animatedly around his sparkly clean bowl. That was 16 months ago. Who says miracles have ceased? :)



So, Mr. T has been through an awful lot and is still quite a spunky little character.

A few weeks ago I was walking into the kitchen and was nearly knocked over by Rachel running the other direction. She booked it into the living room, dove into the couch, and hid her head in the couch cushion. That's a sure fire sign that she's done something naughty. I went into the kitchen to find this:

Poor Mr. T. Look at his little face! Steve and I choked back our hysterical laughing long enough to scold Rachel and remind her we "only draw on paper." Later when I asked her why on earth she colored all over Mr. T's fishbowl she said, "I thought you would think it was pretty and that you might want to take a picture." Nice.