R.I.P. Daria

To understand the beauty of her life, you need to know where she came from. So before I begin, please take a moment to read a little bit about her from a previous post. It's what she would have wanted. Here's her story DARIA

Oh, who am I kidding. Let's cut to the chase. Daria is dead. I probably killed her. Not intentionally, mind you. But, all fingers can most likely be pointed at me. Do you know how hard it is to keep a tadpole alive for 7 months? No, wait a minute, don't blame me. Blame her. Yes, blame her. She had her chance to become a frog and hop herself out of the hell hole we provided for her--but did she? No. Daria never grew any legs. Never grew any odd little arms. Never grew anything. When we purchased her I was told that she would start morphing into a frog in the beginning of June. Perfect. A month long project where we can watch her daily growth--how educational! But June came and went. So did July, August and September. I mean I had someone feed her while we were on vacation- that's the kind of tadpole parents we were!

Feeling really guilty that Daria had been stuck in her situation for so long, I went to the pet shop and inquired about my options. When I saw the look on their face when I told her that she never showed any signs of frogness I knew the answer wasn't good. Apparently, (and it's very rare) some tadpoles just skip the changing process for a season. I should probably mention that tadpoles transform into frogs in accordance to the seasons, which is why they all change in late spring or early summer. I stared at them blankly and then desperately wimpered "you mean we have to wait 8 more months?" They both nodded their heads and added "there are some instances where they never change at all."

This wasn't good news. I started thinking the best option would be to ask the pet store if they could keep her for the next 8 months and when spring rolls around again we can take her back or buy another one. It's a win-win situation, right? We didn't even bother to provide Daria with oxygen--a fish tank with a pump would be like the lap of luxury for her. Think about it, she'd meet other tadpoles, work through her "issues." It would be perfect. Oh but wait. That would mean I'd have to explain to my child why I'm an unfit mother because I'm tired of looking at and smelling this thing in my kitchen EVERY SINGLE DAY. Trying to brush off visions of snuffing the tadpole with a little tiny pillow, I let it go and procrastinated the situation even more.

Until last week. It was like every morning, one eye opened dragging myself to the kitchen to get breakfast started while two little girls dance and flutter at my feet. Literally, they dance and flutter. After pouring a cup of coffee, toasting some waffles, filling the sippy cups, I went to feed Daria and

Daria was gone.

What the hell? How could a rather large tadpole, be gone? I looked everywhere--no signs of Daria. Bella realized that something was wrong and started asking me where Daria was. Now if anyone really knows me, they know that I'm a horrible multi-tasker, so this insistent questioning from Bella while I'm knee deep in search for Daria was more than I could handle. I had no idea what to say to her because I had no idea where she was! Eugene was out of town, so I knew that he wouldn't have any answers. My dad. Yes, call my dad. The loyal family petkeeper will have some answers. I frantically called my dad and simultaneously checked the utensil drawer. Really, Gina, you thought Daria was going to swim to the forks-you idiot.

And my dad told me the news--he found Daria dead the night before and didn't want to tell me around the girls. I watched as Bella stared right at me, intently listening and decoding our conversation. I didn't know what to say. I totally panicked. There was no way I was going to have a half asleep discussion about death with Bella, now. Like a deer in the headlights I spouted out the first idiotic thing that came to my head, "oh, so she got up and walked out the door." Instinctively I slapped my forehead the moment I heard those words come out of my mouth. Yes, I'm a jackass.

I hung up the phone and knew that I couldn't run with this story. I knew I had to tell the truth. Well, not the whole truth. I looked at Bella and said to her, "Daria is gone Bella."

Because Bella needs personal verification for everything these days, she ran to the bathroom to get her step so that she could see for herself. She stared into the terrareum and after awhile said, "Yep. She's gone."

Pfew. That was easier than I thought it would be. And then she looked at me and said, "maybe Daria grew her legs, became Danny and walked to the house of a different family."

I thought that observation deserved a hug.

RIP
Daria
March 30, 2009-October 4, 2009