Hims name was Goldie.

Every day that paper taunted me. She'd come home from school anxious for me to read all the flyers pleading for help and assistance at the upcoming events at school. "Can we go mom, can we?" It was the school carnival she was begging to attend. "We'll see babe, we'll see." That's my usual answer. I learned long ago never to promise anything. The look in her eyes when she realizes a promise didn't quite pan out, well, it's a look that just pierces my heart and makes me feel like a total failure. So no promises were made to attend this kids screaming, running amuck, panic attack inducing event. Just "we'll see."

Actually, I had become quite good at recognizing the flyers at a glance and just started to ignore them all together. I mean, really, we must have gotten some sort of something or other mentioning it every day for the past 4 weeks. Can we say overkill?

So, Saturday rolls around, and with nothing else on our calendar I figured, what's the worst that could happen? $10 to support the school, turns into an hour or two of fun, which turns into a fistful of cheap party favor prizes and a goldfish.

Yep. A goldfish.

We didn't win the goldfish though. Just adopted him. You see, some other frazzled mom who was in line ahead of us, kept coaching her daughter all the way up to her turn. "Now remember Suzie (named changed) if you win we are not taking home a fish. We have two cats that's enough." Which followed by a "buuuuuuuut, moooooooom." To which mom replied, "If you're going to whine about it, we can just move to the next game." She stood there, quietly, waiting her turn. Come her turn, the first ball she tosses toward the fishbowls makes it in. What are the chances of that? Since we were the next in line, we became the proud new owners of a goldfish. She gave us the fish, we gave her another game ticket to play something else.

Between my kids and my nephew all playing that game several times, they never scored a winner.

We brough the fish home and the girls lovingly named it. Em says "Hims name is Goldie, momma." "Okay, sweetie. Hims name is Goldie." I reply.

Goldie lived happily in hims new world on our countertop. Every hour they'd take a peek at Goldie, watch him swim, beg to feed him-----again-----for like the 10th time the same day. Day in and day out. Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. 5 whole days.

Then, something wasn't quite right. Goldie wasn't swimming, but rather floating......uh, upside down. Uh oh. Emma was the one to discover the not so happily ever after. Which was followed quickly with pleas to Ashie to hurry, come quick. Ashie wasn't so nonchalant about the whole thing. Our home quickly echoed with wailing and sobbing upon discovering the demise of her fish. She was beside herself in grief over the death of this little fish that had been in our life for 5 days. Really, it was adorable that she was so sincerely upset over losing this fish........but rather comical all at the same time. Doug and I kept passing silent glances at each other as if to say.......now what!?, without even saying a word.

He became the Superhero with his quick thinking. He quietly made a place of rest for Goldie in a oversized matchbox cushioned with folded papertowels. Then, hugged them in tight for a quick little prayer and tearful goodbye to their beloved pet fish, Goldie. They proceeded out back to the garden where Ashlyn decided the fish needed to be buried by her rosebush. She was thinking clearly enough to realize that the burial couldn't be complete without a grave marking, so she perked up enough to come inside and brainstorm a way to create a makeshift headstone. She settled on drawing a picture of each member of the family, including Goldie. And thought even harder about how she was going to get it to stay in place. "Oh, I know......we could melt one of my fudge popcicles that are a different kind because it is more than 60 calories, so it's okay if we waste it, because I only like the ones that are 60 calories." Everything is always this descriptive with her. Always.

So that we did just that. A non-60 calorie popcicle was melted which yielded us a stick, in which she used to tape her hand-drawn family portrait to. So there it stays, marking the short existence of Goldie the Goldfish.