R.I.P., Cleo

It was a sad morning in our household. When I turned on Boo Boo's bedroom light in order to feed Cleo, I found her floating lifeless. Fittingly, she must have died on All Souls (Nov. 2), otherwise known as the Day of the Dead.

I have to admit that I was shocked (I had expected her to die the first night ... not the third!) and a bit squeamish; I dispatched Dear Husband to handle the "burial." He and Boo Boo said a prayer for her at a short but solemn toilet-side ceremony, reflecting on the 72 hours we shared with her. Then Boo Boo flushed her down.

Requiesat en pace, Cleo.

It's moments like these that make you feel nervous or ill-equipped as a parent. How was I going to explain her death to him? But, thankfully, I remembered "The Clown of God," by Tomie dePaola -- Boo Boo's a huge fan of the book. Its main character dies while juggling to make a statue of Baby Jesus smile. Not surprisingly, Boo Boo will toss an assortment of balls in the air and throw himself on the floor in imitation; "Mama! I died like Giovanni!" he'll tell me.

So that's what I told him: "Cleo died like Giovanni." And that seemed to satisfy him. Phew! He's already talking about getting new fish. Hopefully these will last a little longer than three days...