This is Kevin.
Kevin was a prize in an “Every Game Wins a Prize” fishing game at a local fair. It cost $3 – a fact I am still processing.
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Do you want to know why I chose this fish? Because when I get my real fish, he will have a friend. Kevin.
Wait a second, we never agreed that you’d be getting a fish. Remember what happened to the can’t-be-killed beta fish that died?
So, anyways, want to know why Kevin will be a good friend to my pet fish?
Go ahead, but I’m not making any promises.
1. Kevin is already really smart.
2. He can work my Hexbug. He’s a fish, but he knows how.
3. Kevin loves baseball and my pet fish will, too.
Caring for a fish stuffy is not that challenging. I’m still not convinced.
Well, if I had a fish, it could keep me company.
Allow me to refer to the can’t-be-killed yet still dead beta fish.
Fish can be very relaxing.
We had to hold a fish funeral. You made me say a eulogy.
You’ve said we can’t have a hamster, dog, or cat because you’re “allergic”. Well, you can’t be allergic to a fish.
I’m allergic to disposing of dead fish.
I’ll take care of it, it won’t get lonely.
Like the dead beta fish that tipped over on the dining room table.
He survived.
That time.
Please?
Dead. Beta. Fish.
Is that a maybe?
I’ll think about it.
I’ll clear off some shelf space.
DEAD BETA FISH.
Sounds like a maybe to me.
Go play with Kevin.
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Where do you land on the fish-as-pets spectrum? I’m more of a pet rock kind of gal.
Tough Bananas 
Animals belong either outside or at the zoo.
A pet fish is my kind of a pet.
I refuse to take care of an animal’s poop. The dog poops in the backyard and my husband cleans it up. Fish have bowls that need cleaned and that’s more than I’m willing to do, so I’m a no.
I’m even reluctant to deal with fish poop