Gish, the Fish

Our neighbor requested to purchase a fish for E's birthday, I obliged and offered to get the tank. Well, we've been waiting and waiting for that knock on the door, weeks now (She turned 3 in September...). Mike, our neighbor, even brought it up when we graced his doorstep last week while Trick-or-Treating promising to bring over her pet this last weekend. Nothing. So, enough is enough. You can only look at an empty fish tank of water for so long before you start getting the feeling that this is pathetic, and slightly heart-breaking for the little toe-head that is constantly wondering what the heck is going on.

We've been brainstorming names for her forthcoming pet for at least a month. Bellanor, Gavid, and a myriad of other rhyming 'names,' were E's suggestions. But on the way out the door Gish was her last offering, and ya know what? I think it's a good one. It represents this time in her life when rhyming is pretty much all she does, falling down in fits of laughter at some of the silly outcomes. So, Gish, the fish it is!


We buckled up, and were on our way, with Auntie Gloria in tow. She perused the tanks with eager excitement, saying "This one, oh no, this one!" over and over. We finally settled on a black moor goldfish with bulgy eyes.
She gingerly carried him home in his plastic bag, and talked to him explaining everything. "Here's your new home, that's your light, here's your rocks, they're red."


Look at that face (E's)! She couldn't be happier!