Here, fishy fishy!!

It's no secret that I'm not much on animals. Our sweet Golden Retriever, Libby, was a great dog, but last week we decided that it was time to give her away. Since moving, we don't have a fenced in yard and the poor girl was either in her crate or attached to a leash all day and night. Just not fair to her and so we gave her to a friend's mom, who is the ultimate animal caretaker. I joke that Libby is like Joseph (yes, from the Bible) - she went from the pit to the palace. I'm so happy to know that she's in a wonderful home and being loved on daily! So, yesterday, I was putting away laundry in Macie's room and glanced up at her betta fish bowl only to notice that the water was really cloudy and needed to be changed. Probably 2 weeks ago, but whatev. I decided that while I had a little time to spare before getting the girls from school, I'd do the dreaded job of cleaning out that nasty bowl. Now, if you've never owned a fish and never had to clean out their bowl, you wouldn't know that it is straight up disgusting. I kid you not, the smell that comes out of those little rocks when you are rinsing them off is enough to make you want to puke. I'm not exaggerating. My method has been the same every time I clean it. Pour out the majority of the old water, then with a small amount of water left, dump the fish out into a separate cup to hang out while I clean the rocks and the bowl. So, the fish is doing his thing in the plastic cup and I'm cleaning away, all the while thinking that this fish could die off any day and I'd be perfectly fine with that. (Go back to my first sentence and stop judging me). I finish up cleaning the bowl and add the rocks back in, fresh water, and 8 drops of Betta Safe and then I grab the plastic cup. If you are a PETA member, please stop reading right NOW. It gets really ugly from here out. I grab the strainer/lid thing that goes on top of the fish bowl and carefully (or so I think) pour out the remaining old water in the plastic cup so that I can dump the fish into the clean water. And then it happens. The dreaded thing. The stinking fish somehow slides between the cup and the strainer thing and flops into the kitchen sink. Oh my gosh. I'm screaming. The fish is flopping and flops right down the kitchen sink drain. Still screaming and now kind of gagging, I am baffled as to what to do. There's no way in this world that I'm reaching my hand down in that sink to try and retrieve him. The thought of touching a fish is enough to freak me out. But, he's down in there and my only thought is the brutal death he's about to suffer. There's a garbage disposal in there, ya know?! I call my friend in a panic and her advice is to turn on the water for a while in the hopes to "flush" him down the drain. So, I do that. Then I call Mike. Always the voice of reason in my life. His advice: "Reach your hand in there and see if you can grab him." Mike, have we just met? I'm Chrissy, your wife of 11 years, you should know by now THAT will never happen. Then he tells me to go grab a Goldfish cracker and stick it in the tank like Eddie. You only got that if you watch Friends. He's obviously no help in this situation, so we get off the phone. After the water runs for a little bit, I turn it off and avoid the kitchen at all cost. I don't know what I thought would happen, but there was no good that could come from it, I was sure of that. In all the confusion, I asked Mike if he'd get the girls from school for me and told him to tell Macie that I not only gave away their dog, but that I now killed the fish. They get home and Macie goes, "I heard about my fish - GREAT MOMMA, now we have NO pets!" Thank goodness they aren't too attached to animals either or the past week and a half could have been really traumatizing. So, I tell Mike to go in the kitchen and do the deed. The garbage disposal had to be turned on at some point. He goes in and turns it on for a minute or two and at that point, I'm just hoping the little dude had made his way to the Greenwood sewage system in one piece, as opposed to multiple pieces. I think my pet owning days are officially over. I'm no good at it. But, I promise that while I'm a terrible pet owner, I do take great care of my children. You know, other that killing their pets. Goodbye, Snipe. May you rest in "pieces".