Yesterday, Bob (one of Jack's two goldfish - named Bob and Wendy after Bob the Builder and Wendy, his.. er.... friend I guess) died. Bob (the fish) had been ill for some time.
Jack was pretty upset, and I won't be ashamed to admit that the sight of a little 4 year old boy having to grapple, for the first time, with death was starting to choke me up after a while too:
Jack: But I didn't want Bob to die.
Daddy: I know Jack, but sometimes when fishes [I wasn't yet ready to say the word "people"] get very sick, it just happens. He's happy now because he's [Daddy looks up] in Fishy Heaven. [By "Fishy Heaven", I was intending to allude to a heaven for fishes, and not a particular seafood restaurant that may happen to go by the same name.]
Jack: [Looking upwards] But where is fishy heaven? I can't see him.
Daddy: Well, you can't see it, it's a long way away.
Jack: But there can't be any water in fishy heaven because otherwise it would fall down from the sky? How will Bob swim?
Daddy [having to think quickly on his feet]: Erm, well, there will be water Jack, because... erm... Fishy Heaven is a magical place. And Bob can see you.
Jack: But how can he see me if I can't see him?
And so it went on...
We seemed to have got past it by mid-afternoon, but by bedtime we were upset again. I'm sure the pain will ease over the coming days.
Jack's too.
Incidentally, some recent pictures of the kids can be found here. And for the avoidance of doubt, Jack is wearing his beloved Buzz Lightyear outfit in the last one. In case you were wondering.
Anyway, on an entirely unrelated point, Michele and I watched A Good Year in the evening (very light, slightly rom-com film with Russell Crowe as a British (albeit with questionable accent) investment banker type who gets left a villa in Provence by his uncle, and then becomes converted by French Provencal life). All very light and fluffy. Not the best film in the world perhaps, but very good for a Sunday night.
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