The Unselfish Act

So I'm sorry already.  The last week has been very rough.  My wife was on her deathbed, or at least she said so.  She ended up having strep throat.  She went to the doctor twice before getting the right medicine to clear it up.  As well, two of my kids were sick the last week and I have been sick this week end.  I think the worst has past.  

Yesterday, my wife took some of the kids to our small town PTO carnival.  They have a game where the kids can win a goldfish.  This is not my favorite game and I think they should outlaw it from the carnival.  Our kids have a long history of winning these fish and having them live forever.  This year, however, it was different.

I woke up this morning to fix breakfast, as I always do on Sunday, while my wife stayed in bed.  I am not sure how I acquired this chore, every time, especially since I get up at 3 or 4 am during the week, but I'm sure it has something to do with me doing it once.  Now it is expected, or else.  So I am walking into the kitchen, flip on the light, and there is the fish, on the floor, dried out and stiff.  It had been put in a clear glass bowl and placed on the counter.  I can't say that I was totally disappointed.  I put it back in the bowl thinking that we would have a ceremony when my daughter woke up and be done with it.  To my dismay, I looked at it a few minutes later, and the dang thing was breathing again.  Not long after that it was swimming.

I said that we have had a long history with these carnival fish and that they have normally lived for a long, long time.  We (my wife) have put them in the cabinet and forgotten about them for a few weeks, without food or light, only to find them alive and well.  We have put them on the back porch in the winter over night to find them frozen solid in the morning.  Great, right?  Well the goofy thing was ok after thawing out.  What is the deal with these things?  

I guess that statistically speaking there would be one that would die easily out of the ones we have gotten over the years.  This was that year.  After coming home from church we found the fish floating, dead.  Really dead.  Now he resides in the back pasture, ready to complete the circle of life by being eaten by some raccoon or other critter.  What an unselfish sacrifice.   The ultimate act of giving.  Thank you little fish.

El Toro Negro

Now for another quiz.  What is it?  (It's not grandpaw Frank's ear.)