Just finished watching E.T. with my kids. Am soggy with tears. I wasn't sure if it would stand up -- it's been so long and there's that silly Neil Diamond song and I couldn't quite separate the film and the song, not to mention one of the greatest product placements of all time. Oh, for a bag of Reese's Pieces.

At any rate, watching it with the wiry little body of my son curled like a spring next to me on the sofa, I felt the way I would guess E.T. and Elliott feel. That is, I felt what Theo was feeling. He was excited and sad and happy. He thought things were hilarious and terrible and scary. And I did, too.

Tonight, sitting on the couch, eating handfuls of slightly burnt popcorn and feeling exactly the way my boy felt is, I think why we have kids. And if it's not why we have them, it's really one of the great perks.

I've been in need of perks. Tonight, Theo jumped into my arms when the movie finished. He jumped into his father's arms. His eyes were bright and the blue of my hometown skies and his smile so big, his face so wide with wonder it's impossible to think of anything else.

So, thank you, Mr. Spielberg and goodnight.

So, our fish died. From what? Hypotheses include "curl up and die" and "die-a-betta."

She is technically not our first fish. She replaced our first fish who had the good sense to pass on while the kids were at school. We switched her out like Darren on "Bewitched" and no one really seemed to notice. The original fish was called "Lolly," at some point the new Lolly became "Tanya the fish" and then without any rhyme or reason TTF became "Pebbles Goodman." The new fish is blue and red and has some jazzy shell shaped glass rocks to float above. Her name is Lily Goodman Daisy (though really, I think all Betta fish are male -- at least the pretty ones.)

The old fish died on Sunday while my son was in the bathtub and I was searching through my daughter's hair for lice. Oh, yes, more pets.

I found a louse, Sadie noticed the fish was dead and Theo swore for the first time when my husband tried to get him out of the tub.

"Jesus Crisis," he screamed.

My husband and I turned away, hiding smiles, holding our speeches and waited for the storm to pass.