It Is Possible To Annoy Your Child’s Pet Fish
And you *are* being judged by them.
Here is the sorry tale of Bruce, Lisa, Miss Fish, Thanos, Godzilla, Bruce 2 (& the other one whose name escapes me) who despite my care, appear to hate my guts. Or perhaps it’s because of my care that they hate my guts. You decide.
Our story begins before Christmas some years ago, when like many mothers and fathers, I succumbed to the foolish notion that getting “a pet” for our child for Christmas was “a good idea”.
Living in a flat that is little more than an expensive glorified cupboard did pose some obvious logistical issues around the size and general care of any soul we chose to bring into our home, but OH (Other Half) and I were hopeful that we’d find a solution that met everyone’s needs.
Determining said outcome was something of a delicate operation. If we’d taken more than a nanosecond to analyse the matter, we would both have realised that our likes and dislikes differed wildly, before even beginning to take our son’s preferences into account. Even now, there is a rumbling looping conversation going on eternally about getting a pet when we move house.
Me: We can’t have a dog as we’re out of the house too much. Will I get lumbered with its care? Son is scared of them and I’m not keen. Cats are relatively low maintenance…
