Cold Lang Syne

As I recently reported, our household recently lost our fish, Dr. Seuss.  This caused significant anxiety for me in that I had no idea how my daughter would process this loss.  She was surprisingly ok with it, immediately setting her sights on acquiring a new, better fish.  Enter Fifi.

After that first day, Stella never really talked about Dr. Seuss.  She would – and will – tell everyone who comes through my door that Dr. Seuss died, but HEY LOOK: THERE’S FIFI.  ISN’T SHE BEAUTIFUL?!  It’s like Dr. Seuss never even happened.

Until Saturday.

Absolutely out of the blue, Stella asked if we could feed Dr. Seuss to the cats.  You know, since he was dead and all.  I guess if Dr. Seuss wouldn’t be tasty for us, he would be great for the cats.

Except Dr. Seuss has been dead over 2 weeks.  And Dr. Seuss isn’t in the building anymore.  I actually threw Dr. Seuss in the trash.  That sounds awful to say out loud.  When I was a kid and had fish that died, I used to flush them.  But now that feels like a waste of water.  It’s not “green,” to flush just a fish.  And disposing of a dead fish in a commode full of other stuff feels really wrong.  Dammit, I don’t know.

Anyway, I tried to explain that no, we could not feed Dr. Seuss to the cats.  Why?  Because Dr. Seuss had been dead for a while now, and you just couldn’t leave dead things sitting around.  It’s not healthy.

Fortunately, that seemed to satisfy her.  She didn’t ask what happened to Dr. Suess’ corporeal form.

Poor Dr. Seuss.  This surely was not the legacy you had in mind.

We mean no disrespect!

We mean no disrespect!


About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
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