The only thing Bodie asked Santa for was to have the race track he got last year, set up again. While this was a great request - and very doable - Dave and I were trying to come up with another gift that he'd love. Our idea...a fish! Brilliant, I know.
We had this great vision of him running out on Christmas morning, seeing the fish, passing the racetrack, and exclaiming, "Wow! How did Santa know that what I REALLY wanted was a fish?!?! He's amazing. This is the best Christmas ever!"
My only fear was killing the fish BEFORE Christmas morning. So I delayed going to the pet store until the last minute, bought all of the essentials, and headed home. We hid the fish in our bedroom, keeping him in his store container until late Christmas eve when we made the transfer to his new home, complete with rocks and a plastic plant. All went smoothly. We placed a stool in front of the fireplace, in the center of everything, and proudly displayed the fish - it would definitely be the first thing he saw when he awoke.
Christmas morning arrived and Bodie ran out to see if Santa had been there - sure enough, he had. He methodically checked out the packages - not opening any - walked by the fish, sat down and played with his racetrack, walked by the fish, opened a few things from his stocking, walked by the fish, opened some of Gates' gifts, walked by the fish, ate a candy, and again, walked by the fish. Grandma could see this was killing us, "Bodie did you see that Santa Claus left you a fish?!!?!" "Huh?" was his reply and he moved on to opening another package. We pointed out the fish a few more times and got little if any response. It was as though the fish wasn't even in the room - yet there he swam in his bowl - his bright blue color waiting to be acknowledged - hoping he'd be cleverly named by his new owner.
By this time we were all awake and the room was a bit chilly. Dave kindly got a roaring fire going in a few short minutes. We continued to open packages and wait patiently for Bodie to give some nod to his awesome new fish.
Amid the Christmas chaos of wrapping paper, an infant, grandparents, etc, I glanced over and noticed some bubbles in the fish bowl...HEAT bubbles. "Um, hey Dave. Um, Dave. DAVE!" I could only think to say his name over and over again in my moment of panic. "What Lisa?" was his irritated reply. "Can you move the fish bowl over here?" I said trying not to bring any attention to myself. "Why?" he replied. "Dave, just move it" I snipped. Again, "Why?" (Normally standing up and moving something wouldn't be a big deal, but in our tiny house, moving around on Christmas morning amid the "stuff" was a monumental task. We had all picked a spot and remained stuck there while gifts were being opened.) "BECAUSE THE WATER IS BUBBLING FROM THE HEAT!!!!" "Oh," was his soft reply.
Miraculously Bodie hadn't seen the panic in my eyes and didn't pay any attention to his parents' exchange. (I guess the Christmas chaos provided a perfect distraction.)
Dave set the stool with the fish bowl near me - far from the heat of the fireplace. The fish was still;
eerily still. The fish bowl was warm and the bubbles in the water remained. As we just stared at the bowl, grandma jumped into action. A large handful of ice cubes were dumped into the fishbowl. No response. We poked at him. No response. We spoke to him. No response. The Christmas fish was dead. We had cooked him in his new home on Christmas morning. He died without a name and without ever being celebrated by his new 4 year old owner.
Oddly, all of this commotion was completely missed by Bodie. I'm pretty sure Gates saw us commit the crime, but luckily he can't speak. And by the time he can, his infant memory will have erased the evidence.
We swiftly moved into "operation cover-up." Who will go to the pet store and do you think they are open on Christmas morning? As we debated this event that would surely devastate Bodie, causing him years of therapy, we noticed he continued to wade through the gifts, happily eating M&Ms and cheerfully helping show his brother how to operate his new tractor. Is it possible he wouldn't notice he no longer had a fish? Would our month of thoughtful gift-picking go completely unnoticed and just die off (pun intended)?
As the day continued, not a single mention of the fish. He really had never noticed - or cared - that Santa brought him a fish and that his parents sent him off to the big guy in the sky. We were off the hook (again, pun intended!) Now for getting rid of its remains. Dave and I decided we had to share the duty. So after everyone was in bed and the house was quiet, we took a solemn walk to the bathroom, scooped Little Blue out (he needed a name before he departed), and flushed.
Christmas was awesome. My grandma and grandpa came in from Utah and we had a ton of fun. We visited the train displays at the Botanical Gardens, Union Station, and the National Christmas Tree. We saw Santa at his DC workshop on the National Mall in front of The White House. We played soccer, built trains, watched Christmas movies, read books, frosted cookies, played croquet, decorated a gingerbread house, played soccer while watching the airplanes land, strolled through the neighborhood (I scooted) and just hung out.
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