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I Killed
The Goldfish
"Yes, Your Honor, I'm guilty. I admit
I killed the goldfish, but please hear me out. There were extenuating
circumstances. First, let me tell you about our home. Please
bear with me. These details are pertinent.
"My husband and I found our dream home in
Anaheim, California not far from Disneyland. We had three-quarters of
an acre with orange and avocado trees. The house might have been old,
but it was sturdy enough to withstand the knocks of our four
children--Diana, Michael, Linda, and Ronald.
"The layout of our home is partly
responsible for the death of the goldfish. How? Well, it's like
this. We remodeled, adding a bedroom for the boys and a large family
room. Now the children can race through the house and not be cornered.
They can run through the living room, go under the archway into the dining
room, then enter the kitchen, go under another archway into the family room.
Because the boys' room has two doors they can dash in and out that room,
speed down the hallway and into the living room.
"In the family room along the wall near the
kitchen archway stands an old player piano. The lid is usually open
because the kids like to watch the movement inside while they play on the
keys. The goldfish bowl sits on top of the piano. Each child
used to have a fish in there.
"Well, Sir, you know how boys are,
especially when there's four years difference in their ages. They have
squabbles. I have no idea what this one was about the day I killed the
goldfish, but it must have been fierce. Mike our older son came
running in through the kitchen door as if a mad dog were chasing him.
Then four-year-old Ron dashed in right behind him with a hammer in his fist
poised to clobber Mike. When my words failed to defuse the situation,
I found myself racing after Ron to save Mike. The murderous gleam in
his eyes told me I'd better grab him quick. I couldn't. He kept
eluding me. When Ron went through the kitchen archway into the family
room, he skirted around the opened piano lid. Right behind him, I
slammed the lid down to avoid hitting my shoulder. The wooden pegs
broke, sending the lid crashing to the floor. The jarring caused the
fish bowl to tip over, sending fish and water behind the piano.
"The chase stopped. Diana and Linda
who were watching the three-ring circus from the family room, stood silent,
their mouths agape. The boys stood wide-eyed. Then all four
started screaming, 'Our goldfish! Save our goldfish.'
"Well, I tried, Your Honor. I really
did. I managed to lift the end of the piano and move it away from the
wall, but only two of the fishes lived. Whose? Why the girls'
fishes, of course. Case dismissed? Thank you, Your Honor.”
Donna Brown
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