Sorry Splenda-Claudine

This weekend Alana and I became parents to a beautiful beta-fish, Splenda-Claudine.

Ok, she's actually kind of ugly, but when the pet store owner told us that no one wanted her because she was ugly, we couldn't say no.

Today, I lifted the lid of her fish tank. As I did, my phone beeped. I turned to look at my phone, when suddenly I heard a weird ass noise.

It was Splenda-Claudine, laying on the floor about a foot away from the bookshelf that her tank is on top of. She didn't even flop around.

After I shrieked, I froze for about 30 seconds.

As much as I didn't want to tell my roommate that I killed our fish within 48 hours of buying it, I really didn't want to pick up the little black fish off the floor.

I wrapped her in a tissue, but her scales got stuck to it. So I plopped her into the tank, tissue and all. She promptly sank to the bottom. Upset, I texted Alana that our fish was dead.

Within two minutes, though, she was swimming around like nothing had happened.

She attempted to jump one more time after she woke up from her brief coma, but hit the lid. As I look at her right now, she's just sort of swimming slowly around, that fiestiness that she had yesterday gone. Maybe it's because she's disheartened from her failed escape, or maybe because she needs help after an attempted suicide.

Or maybe it's because she plummeted like two feet, which is pretty damn high for a fish.

Whatever it is, I'm sorry Splenda-Claudine for being a shitty mother, and hopefully your other mother understands you better. If it's that you don't have a father figure, then I'm sorry, but not all families are alike. We can print out a picture of Matt Damon and place it next to your tank. You can pretend that he is your dad if it will make you feel better.

Is it bad that I sort of relate to my pet fish??