So Help Me, Fish!

We do dumb things when we just feel like getting out of the house, like getting fish.  Last time, it was a tank with six different fish in it who died on some kind of rotational system that we never could understand.  The tank was in the kids' room, so we tried to shield the kids from the multitude of fish deaths.  Most often, one fish would die in the late afternoon and I would notice as I put the kids to bed, which is the wrong time to pull a dead fish out of a tank.  By the next morning, those little cannibals had eaten their dead friend.  Sick.

This time, we got two bettas.  They're named Link and Zelda, in some order, and they change names every day or so.  I don't know why, since they look completely different.  One is a beautiful blue and the other is a white/pink/red baby that Audrey picked because she really wanted a baby fish.  The baby fish gets on my nerves.
Every day for the last two weeks, I go into the kids' room to feed the fish and that dang baby fish is up at the top, on her (his?  its?) side and not moving.  The first time it happened, I was like Okay, time to distract the kids with food and let all drains lead to the ocean.  It was a baby fish, so she cost like $1.99 anyway, and I figured this moment was exactly why.  I fed the other fish so he wouldn't break through the barrier to chow down on his deceased roommate.

I returned to the bedroom, turned the tank a few times to see how involved this was going to get since she was right against the filter.  No fin movement, no gills expanding, no mouth gasping for air.  She had flattened herself up against the filter.  Yup, she's dead.  I took off the top of the tank, moved the filter slightly, and immediately she sprang to life, swimming a few proud circles up and down the tank and catching some food before she returned to her original perch.

The next day, same thing.  And the next and the next, and every day since.  Aaron says she's probably forming some kind of bubble nest.  The internet says bubble nests are completely normal and healthy, but if that's what she's doing, she's horrible at it.  Maybe she'll get one bubble out near her, but then she moves to another location to play dead.

Honestly, I'm about to just flush her and be done with it.  She's not dead, she's not dying - she's just a jerk.  She's eating well and growing, but this is just her thing.  I wish the other fish would have a little Come to Jesus with her and explain that people don't like giving their kids fish who look dead every day.

Audrey's starting to ask questions, and it's only a matter of time before they pull the whole tank down during nap-time to investigate.  I'd hate to let my inaction kill the blue one, who comes forward at feeding time and swims around to show his billowing plumage or whatever fish have.  I honestly took the word plumage from the Monty Python Dead Parrot sketch.  I might also return this fish to the store using the same script, though they would be correct as the shopkeeper because this stupid fish is probably just resting or stunned or whatever.  And if the fish just sucks at life, they'll send her down the toilet anyway.

I hate that stupid fish.  Don't tell my kids, though.  I still act upset every morning when she dies so they don't suspect and I'd hate to have all that effort go to waste.