Big Fish and Little Fish

Sorry in advance.


Another Doug post.


One of Layne's patients is in charge of the fish tanks at Cabela's. He's told us a few times to bring the kids down at feeding time and he'd let them feed the fish. Last Wednesday, we took him up on it.


We were supposed to meet him at 5:45 for the 6:00 feeding, but somehow missed him the first time, so we decided to watch the feeding just like everyone else. It was really interesting to see how the fish knew the food was coming even before they started throwing it in the water.

At first it was just pellets. The kids were fascinated to see how quickly the fish would snap up the pellets as they floated down in the water. That was all fine and good.

Until it was time for the goldfish.


They threw in bunches of goldfish, which the huge trout snapped up even quicker than the pellets. They were so quick, that it took us a moment to even realized what the big fish were eating.

That's when tender-hearted little Dougie started crying his little eyes out and begging for me to make the big fish stop eating the poor little fish.

Mike feeding the fish.

Fish frenzy

Before I could run him out of the observation area, he witnessed one trout swimming around with half a goldfish hanging out of its mouth-- with many other large trout nearly attacking the gluttonous fish because they kept getting glimpses of orange.

It really was brutal.


Our friend came down and found us about then and offered to take the kids up to the tank to let them throw in a few more pellets. The other kids (who thought the fish feeding was awesome) were very excited to go up. Not Doug.


He wants NOTHING more to do with the fish. He burst into tears every time we even walked near the fish tanks from then on.


That right there is one of the reasons that it was so hard for me to send Doug to kindergarten last week.


My funny, crazy baby boy has a kind, tender heart and I'm afraid that school is going to beat that out of him. Dropping him off at school on Thursday-- then walking away without him might have been one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.


I absolutely understood his crying about big fish eating little fish. To me, he's the little fish entering a really big fish tank. I'd like to keep him in my own little bowl-- for only me to enjoy, but I know that he's destined for bigger oceans than that.


Sometimes it's really hard to be the mom. . .