Don't Laugh

Zolishka has been very sick. She is Dasha's goldfish. She and Nastia got their fish the first week she was here. By some obvious miracle, they have both survived these last two months.  Nastia is very attached to (obsessed with?) Zolishka. She dotes on her with the level of attention and care of a Jewish mother ( I know lots of them, so I can say that...lol). Nastia adores this fish, and I expect that some of this attachment has to do with the absence of Dasha herself.


Anyway, Zolishka has had 'swim bladder' issues from day one. We rectify it in all the recommended ways - we stagger her feedings, we give her mushed peas when things get really bad, we cycle her water more often...we basically cater to this fish more than anyone else in the house! Lately, Zolishka has been lying on her side in a corner of the tank. Bailey, the other fish, has been keeping a close (and very moving) vigil by her side. It's been days now. Every morning we expect to see her floating at the top of the tank, and every day she surprises us with her endurance skills. She's a survivor. Or, as my dad would say, she has moxie.


Nastia has already cried about Zolishka's current status a few times this week. "Why does she have to suffer like this?" Nastia laments "It's not fair, she's so little..." And then, the inevitable, "DO something, mom!"


I've done everything within my human power to help, and so I resort to praying the rosary for her. Don't laugh. I know some of you might be thinking I'm completely nuts, but I'm sure you've done crazier things for your children, when push comes to shove. And  so I prayed, and I asked God, if it was His will, that he would give me Z's sickness instead. And then I went to work and forgot about it.


Lunchtime rolls around. Heading home, I feel nauseous. I get home and climb into bed. I start feeling worse. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I have a temperature. I feel positively wretched by 4pm. I sleep and sleep...


Nastia wakes me up, "Mom! Zolishka is still alive and she's doing a little swimming again!" 


She's right. I check. The little lazarus fish is foraging the bottom of the tank looking for dinner. She's still a little sideways, but she's made a remarkable recovery once again. The rosary? My offer to take on her little fishy suffering myself? coincidence? Who knows, but right now I have to go upstairs to puke. But I do it for Z, and for Nastia, so it's not for naught.