We got a pet.

We were worried because John-John was starting to say things like, "We need a new dad. One who's not allergic to pets."

So we got a fish. Black Goldy.

Tonight, he read him a story, Are You My Mother (which he knows by heart).

But while he read, I could not help but notice his eyelashes and that spot of toothpaste on his left mouth corner.

And then we discussed about how fish often have short lives, which quickly turned to what will we do with him when he dies?  Can we compost him?  Flush him?  Ooh!  Maybe we'd dig him up one day right beside a tomato plant!  Or, flushing him would be like sending him for a ride down a really cool big boy waterslide!!!

Good luck, BG.