The death of Ankor

We've always been open about death with the kids. Well, as open as you can be with a 1 and 2.5 year old.

We found a bird once that was dead. When H asked why it wasn't flying, I told her outright that it was dead. She just kind of nodded and said, "Oh."

When H gave her baby brother a rolly poly to play with and he promptly ate it, I told her it was dead.

When she dumped a bucket of rolly poly's into her water table, I explained that they had drowned since they could not swim, and they were dead.

When B stepped on some rolly poly's I explained to the kids how they were now dead.

You are seeing a trend here, right? You should probably call rolly poly homocide on us. As much as my kids love them, they sometimes forget to be gentle....

Well, for baby B's birthday my dear, sweet little sister bought them a fish. H named it Ankor. With a K. I don't remember how it became that it must be spelled with a K.

I told my sister a fish was too much responsibility. Too much feeding. Too much cleaning. Too much remembering to care for it.

For me.

Kids, I'm good with. Plants and animals, they don't stand a chance.

So Ankor died.

She looks like she has mold on her.

I swear to God I did everything I was told. I cleaned that stupid tank bi-weekly and fed it the "special" fish food because it was picky. WTF? A fish can be picky!

But it died anyway.

So I figured that since we have always be point-blank about death it wouldn't be a big deal telling H.

I was right.

Until she asked to watch her swim 2 hours later. And I had to explain again that she was dead.

And then H said that no, she would rather Ankor be alive and swimming, and could I please make her move now? (So maybe I left the dead fish in the tank to let J deal with...)

Finally I told her that her auntie would take her to get a new fish Thursday that can remember how to swim.

Apparently she doesn't "get" death as well as I thought.

But that's probably a good thing anyway. She's only 2.