Bob and Shell

They are my goldfish.  Actually I bought three of them and thought of names like Moe, Larry, and Curly, or Winken, Blinken, and Nod.  They are for when my grandchildren come over to see us.  Before the kids ever saw them, though, one died.  He looked weak from the beginning...kind of frail, and he was white - probably on his death bed when I brought him home.  Anyway, he died right away.  So I am left with...Moe and Larry, or Blinken and Nod, or whoever.  The gold one and the blonde one.
Emma has taken the most interest in them and she named them.. Bob and Shell.  "Bob and Mi-chelle?" I asked.  "No," she said, "Just Shell."  I do not know which is which.
So there they are, in my kitchen swimming around in a fish bowl.  Their home gets cleaned weekly, by me.  I have put it off all day today.  While washing the dishes this evening, I glanced over and took pity on them.  "Okay you guys, let's do this."
Why do things sometimes happen all at once?  I mean, when you can't possibly do two tasks at once that need your undivided attention - why?  That seems to happen to me alot lately.
I was finished cleaning the bowl and rinsing the marbles - (don't you just love marbles in a fishbowl or in a glass jar in the window?) - and I was putting the fish back into the bowl and one slipped out and went down the garbage disposal...and the phone rang, and rang.  Tommy yelled from the other room, "It's your mom."  As he is talking, I am frantically sticking my hand down into the disposal.  Have you ever done that?  Try it.  I am feeling around for a fish - in the hope that he is still wiggling.  Now the black icky thingy is around my wrist like a bracelet and the fish is in my fist.  I am trying to find the phone.  It is not in its home...
I look down at my Bob or Shell and he/she isn't moving.  I rinse him under the sink - yes, him.  After thinking about it, Shell would never escape into a garbage disposal.  I drop Bob back into his bowl and watch.  He swims!!  He survived and is following Shell around the bowl, telling her about his adventure.  I put the disposal thingy back in place (gross) and take pictures of my two fish that I have suddenly grown very fond of.  We have bonded.
During all of this, Tommy is telling me that I can get another and I realize how much I love these fish.  We get attached to things we take care of, don't we?  Some things just need caring for.  Some people do, too.