Inside, We Have Bones

We have a sick goldfish. It's lost most of its energy and color and it spends the day at the bottom of the tank not doing much. Apparently it has a disease called dropsy, which is usually fatal.

Annabel noticed that it wasn't acting itself lately and asked about it last Sunday afternoon. Kristin and I were both there.

"The fish is sick" said Kristin
"Is he going to be okay, Daddy?" Asked Annabel
"I hope so sweety, but he's very sick and he'll probably die" I said, not knowing how else to put it.

Annabel though about it for a second.

"We aren't going to die are we?"
Kristin came to the rescue here.
"Not yet" She said, "Now its time for your bath, lets go."

Annabel stood for another second thinking.

"Inside, we have bones." She said.