New Family Member

We have a new member of the family.

Meet Pujols:

He is a Beta Fish.  And he is Mac's distraction from the fact that he does not have a dog.  He has been begging me for one lately, especially after watching "Up" and hanging out with other people's dogs.  (Friends, relatives, grandparents ...)  Belle seems to agree; she squeals with delight when she sees furry little creatures and calls them all "Pup-pup!" She pats their heads and claps her hands.  And she carries this little fellow around everywhere we go:

I would love a dog.  I was one of those animal-obsessed children as well; I loved "Julie of the Wolves" and "Pony Pals" and idolized Pocahontas.  I wrote detailed letters to my parents explaining why I needed a dog (they weren't so excited about it) and had about every other pet you could possibly have in anticipation of one.  When Abby the orphaned mutt finally snuck her way into my parents's hearts, I was thrilled.  She was such a fun, goofy dog.  I loved her.
And I still love dogs.  I would love to have one.
But not in this tiny, yard-less house.

So I tell my boy, "Sorry bud, our house is too small."
He then brings me a hammer and says, "Here Mom.  Let's make it bigger.  Let's do this together."

Instead, we made another chore chart.  Mac saved some money, and we went to the pet store to find the cheapest, easiest little pet we could possibly find for a three and one year old.

And there he was, a beautiful red little fish.  Angels red.  Belle reached for him, and Mac said, "Hey!  Hims red just like the Angels.  Like Albert Pujols!" (One of his favorite baseball players.)

And so it was decided.  He bought the fish for a dollar, picked out a toy for him, and donated his marbles to the fish tank.  "Pujols loves marbles, Mom.  And his mouth is tiny, so he will not try to eat them and choke and die."

So Pujols eats meals with us.  He sometimes sleeps under Mac's bed.  He watches shows with Mac, and we regularly check out fish-related books at the library to read to him.  He catches food as it falls from the surface just like Albert Pujols catches balls at first base.  He plays hide-and-seek in his toy, and loves looking at the marbles.

Pujols brings out the best in my boy, and I love it.

And this little sweetheart?  She does her best to feed him ... and would do it every five minutes if we let her.  She's tried to touch him a couple of times, and has indeed poked him in the face while he was trying to eat.  She squeals, pats his tank, and has added a new word to her little vocabulary:  "Fssshhh."

Welcome to the family, Pujols.  We're glad to have you around.