Fishy

I have this humidifier that I sleep with every night. In case you didn't know, I am a singer. Just love to sing and part of taking care of my golden vocal chords is moisture. It doesn't matter what season it is we always seem to have some sort of dry forced air circulating in our house. I cannot express the havoc this wreaks on singing voices. Just trust me on this. So the humidifier is always on.

My little 2 year old ran into my room the other day, because that is how toddlers travel. They don't walk. Sometimes they pretend to be dogs and crawl around and bark, but never do they walk. She ran right up to my humidifier and pressed her squishy little face onto the water tank. Then she uttered the cutest thing I have ever heard.

Ready?

"Where go fishy?"

I warned you. Adorable.

It took me a few repetitions to figure out exactly what she was saying, but once I did I texted my husband immediately. He had to be privy to the fact that our precious baby thought my humidifier was an abandoned fish tank. Priceless. I tried explaining that there would be respiratory issues for mama if a fishy did indeed reside in my humidifier, but she was resolute. "Where go fishy?" she demanded. I could not convince her that her assessment of the situation was flawed.

So I have to get a fish because she is still doing it. She still peers into the water tank in search of the long lost fishy. I cannot take it anymore. I have to buy her a fish even though I don't want a fish. We already have two beasts roaming around our house barking and occasionally smelling the joint up. I don't need another pet, but she is so stinkin cute. So we will get a fish and hope that the fish will live past a week. I can't deal with a toilet funeral.