The best 72 hours of his life

Our otherwise super fun day came to a disappointing end tonight. We went to the mall to trick or treat, then to dinner and then I took Carter to a few houses in our neighborhood. When we got home, Al whispered to me, "the fish is dead." We sat there trying to decide how to break it to Carter (who was in the bathroom brushing his teeth). Al took the fish into the bathroom and explained that he went to live with Heavenly Father and we needed to flush him down the toilet. I listened from the kitchen. Carter was surprisingly calm until he saw me. He buried his head in my lap and cried and cried that his little fishy had died. Such a sad thing to have to learn as a little kid. I think it was the best 72 hours of his life, having a little pet fish to love and care for. It makes me want to go right out and buy him another one, but I don't think we will. After all, how in the world do you keep a little goldfish alive?!? And I can't imagine doing this every three days. One heartbreak is enough. Poor guy!! Hope everyone had a great Halloween!