Fish

Growing up, we had some pet fish. They didn't make very good pets. They'd either die from culture (water) shock after getting to our house, or Molly would hug them and they'd be out of water too long, or our cat (Ramona) would go fishing and then lose the little fishies somewhere in the house... only to be found dead and dried up later in the week.

In high school, I got really sick after one of my surgeries. I remember waiting in the waiting room before an ultrasound on my belly, and my mom was trying to take my mind off of my aches and pains, so she told me to watch the fish that were in the waiting room. When I did, I had to run to the bathroom because I got nauseated. I cannot watch fish in a fish tank to this day because of that... it makes me feel like I'm gonna throw up.

I don't like looking at fish that I catch while I'm fishing.

I don't like looking at fish in bowls or tanks or on movie screens.

Frankly, I don't really much care for eating fish! It stinks. And if it looks anything like it does when it's caught, that's just gross.

One time Jeff and I were grocery shopping and I picked up a packaged item in the clearance freezer. I was turning it around to figure out what it was, when I realized it was a fish... with eyes! EW! I threw it back into the freezer. I shoved things aside and was about to pick up a different package when something startled me even more! The same type of fish had fallen out of it's packaging and was laying open in the freezer. I jumped back (probably about a foot!) and gasped. Jeff laughed, of course. And I was out of there quite quickly.



There was a fish tank up on my grandpa's floor of the nursing home he was in. I tried to avoid looking at it. Mom would always make comments about "Oh look at the fish!" She and Grandpa even named the fish one time... one was named "Howard" after my grandpa, and my grandpa named one "You" after my mom. (He couldn't remember her name, but wanted it to be named after her.) Mom showed me which one was Howard and which was "You." I slightly paid attention, but not long enough to really study the fish.

I remember during my grandpa's last week alive, that the Howard fish wasn't doin' too well. He'd kinda lay sideways in the tank and stay in one place. Every time we'd pass by Mom would say "Oh no! Howard's dead!" But I'd roll my eyes and tell her the fish was fine and not to look at it. Sure enough... we'd walk past a few minutes later and the fish would be in a different spot, maybe even a little perkier looking. But it kept happening... over and over.

The morning that Grandpa died, Mom and I returned to the nursing home to get his things and clean out his room. Out of habit, I glanced over at the fish tank to find that Howard was swimming around happily with the other fish. Funny how that happens, huh?

I guess fish aren't so bad after all...