Like a stealth cat she walks into the dark bedroom. She sidles up to the side of the bed. “Daddy?”
“Hum?” He doesn’t turn or move but opens one eye to see his youngest stare at him.
“My fish is dead” Said with no emotion just a fact, she shrugs her shoulders and exits toward the kitchen for cartoons and breakfast.
Ever see those carnival gold fish? My daughters ages 12 & 7 worked it, since they were not getting a puppy anytime soon, come on let’s get fish they are easy to take care of yadda yadda ya… Short story following a few ping pong throws, here they come home with 5 goldfish. What is crazy is I go out and buy aquariums for these poor little guys and well, they are dropping out on us to 1 who remains – All hale King Louis and we hope you make it!
Was my daughter sad about last fishes demise (aka Princess Leia)? No. It’s the circle of life she tells me, who knew the Lion King was so impressionable on her. Am I ready for the circle of life, heck NO! I started thinking about this more while I am reading Brendon Buchard’s book THE CHARGE. Although I am good at coaching others, I am feeling like a dead fish at work. Not satisfied. I certainly contribute and know I am valued but it’s a lack of ump. Looking forward to my ‘brain exercise’ with Brendon but I am only through chapter 3.
Here I sit at my desk at home, in what I have decided needs a much better chair (Labor Day sales, here I come), pondering the role of the dead fish. How do you deal with the dead fish literarily and figuratively?
My lovely husband does the courageous duty of flushing it by way of the porcelain graveyard with the ceremonious secondary flush so we don’t alarm the unsuspecting. This isn’t unlike how I am dealing with my figurative dead fish, I just flush away the internal banter and focus my mind on what pumps me up.
So sending out to the fellow readers, bloggers, tweeters, buddies & pals, how do you deal with your dead fish?