We have a goldfish who actually fakes his own death. He floats belly-up at the top of the tank. Every morning.
This upsets the little people at a critical time of the day. I tell them he’s faking and he’ll be fine by dinner time.
That’s how cruel I am “you don’t even care about the fish, you just want us to get ready for school”. I own it, that’s my main aim in the morning, getting them fed and to school on time.
Roll on bedtime, when we feed the fish. Faker-Fish is suddenly alive, he eats his dinner like an aqueous undead.
I remind everyone to remember Faker Fish is fine and no need to worry if same should happen tomorrow morning.
Next morning Faker Fish is up to his old tricks again. We appear to trapped in an Aquatic version of Groundhog day as the same conversation is revisited. Only this time I’m the cruellest Mother ever.
“Maybe” says my seven year-old, “he’s actually dead, but faking life”…
Faker Fish is swimming dangerously close to the edge with me.